


The Cat on the Pianoforte: Part One

by gingersnapper



Series: The Cat on the Pianoforte [1]
Category: Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 22:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 58,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11344053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingersnapper/pseuds/gingersnapper
Summary: Young Kitty Bennet struggled to find herself among her four other sisters, but all she needed to get the ball rolling was a little push, and that push came from Colonel Fitzwilliam, a visitor at Longbourn. Through his eyes, she learns her character, growing up more in a year than she had in the previous eighteen years before the Colonel waltzed into her life. But things go wrong, and the Colonel's poor word choices and Catherine's quick judgements delay their happiness, yet misfortune brings them back together.{This is the first part of a multi-part series of stories of the same title}





	1. Prologue

Softly, slowly and elegantly, a hand swept across the ivory colour of the parchment, leaving behind it a trail of smoky charcoal in a definitive line. It rounded,  the illusion of a half circle growing as the artist sketched out the outline of its subject. The artist shaded in the dark parts of the subject and left the lighter parts blank, her fingers dirtying as they smudged the markings with her forefinger. The artist completed the drawing, sat back to admire it, and compared the sketch to the subject; it was a sketch of a sleeping black and white cat on the top of a dark mahogany pianoforte. The lines were off slightly, and the poor cat's figure in the sketch appeared as if it had eaten too much ham at Christmas, but nevertheless, the artist had improved much since she first began sketching only a few short months before. The artist, satisfied with the sketch for now, closed her sketchbook and rubbed her fingers clean on a once-white linen handkerchief with the initials 'K.B.' embroidered on the corner; she checked the elegant clock that ticked away on the wall and stood, departing the room with her sketch resting on the arms of the chair she had just vacated, her dirtied handkerchief lying on the floor.


	2. 15 April 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty Bennet introduces herself through her first journal entry and describes her meeting of the Colonel. Colonel Fitzwilliam comes bearing bad news about Elizabeth, the new bride of Mr. Darcy. Kitty believes that he is there for Mary.

_Sunday, 15 April 1813_  
  
_When I was first given this small book on my eighteenth birthday three days prior, I scoffed at the idea, but upon giving it some thought, I considered it to be an escape from the real world, where I could write down all of my thoughts considering I could hardly share them with my sisters. I've so many, but perhaps I should start with an introduction, lest some historian centuries from now happens upon it and wishes to study it as we now do medieval documents and the likes._  
  
_My name is Catherine Madgelena Anna Bennet and I was born on the twelfth day of March in the year seventeen-hundred-and-ninety-five to Thomas and Martha Bennet. I am the fourth of five daughters, Jane Martha Bennet, Elizabeth Margaret Bennet, Mary Abigail Bennet, all older than myself, and Lydia Antheia Fleurette Bennet. My youngest sister has quite a name, does she not? I believe the story goes that she was named entirely by Mama and Mama now favours her over us all. Lydia was entirely her living poppet. Anyhow, my name is Catherine Madge-_ **_(scratched)_ ** _I've already written my name, how silly of me! I have been called 'Kitty' my entire life by Mama, but the older I get, the more I realize that it isn't quite a name I enjoy. I have tried to persuade Mama to call me by another name such as 'Cathy' or 'Catie' or 'Cate' or even 'Catherine', but she insists on calling me 'Kitty'. All my life, I've been known as one of the silly little Bennet sisters and I had never quite known my purpose before, so just a month or so ago, I thought I would start trying things out. I tried to play the pianoforte, but I could never get a good tune. I tried to embroider handkerchiefs and pillows with Jane, but I only kept drawing blood from my fingers, no matter how many thimbles I wore. So I sat down at a desk with a piece of parchment and charcoal. I thought for a moment and twenty minutes later, I had a surprisingly good outline of a cat. I surprised myself, even, not having known I could produce something like that._  
  
_Elizabeth, whom I am more likely to refer to as Lizzy, has recently been married to a Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, north in Derbyshire. She is so far from us, but she is happy at least. Bless her for holding herself out for love rather than to marry that silly cousin of mine, Mr. Collins, but never mind him. Jane is engaged to a Mr. Bingley of Netherfield, which is not too far from my home of Longbourn - which, I forgot to mention, is in Hertfordshire - and my other sisters have yet to enter engagements, although Mary is clearly smitten on a young man from Meryton, a Mr. Casey whom has been assisting her in improving her skills on the pianoforte. Lydia, of course, is chasing after the militiamen still, while I have decided to improve my hand at drawing since Lizzy has married. Since she left and Jane spends most of her days at Netherfield, Longbourn has been lacking sense, and I thought that perhaps I might try and fill the hole left by them both._  
  
_The reason why I chose today of all days to write in this little book was because today was the day that I decided to make all of these changes. Truly, it was this morning, as we all broke our fasts; an unexpected visitor had come bearing terrible news..._

* * *

Lydia and I sat in our usual places at the table giggling over the soldiers we were planning on seeing later that afternoon in Meryton when our manservant entered the dining room declaring that we had a visitor. "This early?" cried Mama in wonder. "But who would call on a family so early? Surely, not the Lucases!"  
  
"No one in all of Hertfordshire would call on a family this early, my dear," said Papa from behind his newspaper, which he folded up and set down in front of him. "Did our visitor give you a name?"  
  
"A Colonel Fitzwilliam, sir," said our manservant, and Mary smiled, while Lydia's eyes went wide at the mention of the man's military rank.  
  
"Colonel Fitzwilliam! Papa, you must accept him! I met him while I was in Kent with Lizzy!" she exclaimed excitedly. Only a month prior, she had gone to Kent to visit our former friend and neighbour, Charlotte Lucas, now Collins, with Lizzy and developed and acquaintance with a Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter, Anne, both of whom enjoyed music. At least, I heard from Mary that Anne enjoyed her playing, while Lady Catherine seemed hard to impress.  
  
"Very well, Mary, you may meet him in the drawing room," said Papa, then turning his attention to our manservant. "Thomas, do show our visitor to the drawing room." With a polite 'yes, sir', Thomas departed the room to carry out his orders as Mary abandoned her toast and eggs to tidy herself up. What for, I wondered, considering how she seemed so smitten on that Mr. Casey. He had been teaching her for quite some time, upon Mr. Darcy's request, as we found out later; he had been one of the young men that had asked to dance with Mary at the Netherfield Ball last autumn after Mr. Darcy, in an effort to impress Lizzy, asked her to dance. That was when I remembered that earlier that morning, I had left an unfinished and uncleaned work-in-progress in the drawing room, where Mary was about to entertain our guest.  
  
"I've just remembered the mess I left in the drawing room!" I cried, jumping up and racing out of the room as quickly as I could. I rounded the corners that led to the entrance hall and into the drawing room, where I stopped and froze with an expression of sheer terror on my face as I found our visitor bent over the sketch I had left leaning against a chair. He was dressed as any wealthy gentleman would, as I was sure he was, of course, of the higher class if Mary had met him while visiting Lady Catherine. His hair was longer and a dark reddish-brown colour and he was short in stature, but nonetheless very handsome from behind. He must have heard my rushed footsteps and my heavy breathing, for he stood erect and turned to face me; I found him not to be the most attractive man, but when he smiled, he seemed very friendly, welcoming and approachable.  
  
"Good morning, madam!" he said politely with a bow, to which I responded with a curtsy. "I must assume that you are one of the lovely Bennet sisters that Miss Mary has told me so much about in her letters?"  
  
"You correspond with my sister?" I asked, confused on exactly what Mary's intentions were.  
  
"Lightly, yes, and in friendship," the Colonel replied. "Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself! I am Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, but Colonel will do fine for acquaintance. And you are?" I smiled lightly, deciding to toy with him a bit.  
  
"If my sister has told you so much of us, perhaps you'll be able to guess," I replied.  
  
"Hmm... For one, you are certainly not Mrs. Darcy... You look rather young, so you must be one of Miss Mary's younger sisters, yes?" I nodded. "And I'm assuming that you were rushing into this room to hide this drawing from my view, yes?" Again, I nodded. "Ah, then you must be Miss Kitty. Miss Mary informed me that you were quite the artist."  
  
"Very clever, Colonel! I suppose there must be a reason for that title," I declared. "I am only somewhat of an artist, and not a very good one. My skills are still developing. Do please forgive me for the mess, I was up quite early to finish it and I had forgotten I had left it here."  
  
"And I am quite sure your family was not expecting any guests, Miss Kitty." I nodded gently. "Forgive me, have I said something wrong?"  
  
"I beg your pardon, sir?" I asked, confused.  
  
"The expression of disgust you gave after I said your name, madam. Do you perhaps not wish to be referred to as 'Miss Kitty'?" I paused, a little stunned that he would notice something so subtle, or even give it a single thought.  
  
"Well..." I struggled to think of the proper words, then I let out a sigh; somehow, I felt far more comfortable around this man than I ought to have. "All of my seventeen years, I have been called by a name I despise. The name 'Kitty' has always been a pet name for me, and is a shortened form of my Christian name, Catherine. I've been asking my sisters to refer to me as Catherine or Cathy or even Cate or Caty, but they do not seem to wish to."  
  
"I don't wish to call you by a name that disgusts you, madam. Do tell me, which do you prefer?"  
  
"I suppose anything other than 'Kitty', sir."  
  
"Then perhaps I shall call you Miss Caty? It seems a name most suitable for a girl such as yourself." I gently smiled and nodded.  
  
"Yes, that does sound quite wonderful," I replied.  
  
"Then Miss Caty it is," said the Colonel, returning the smile. At that moment, Mary had entered the room fully refreshed and looking as if she were to visit Meryton and she stalled before us, taking in the scene.  
  
"Hello, Colonel! I see you've met Kitty," she said, sounding a tad bit disappointed.  
  
"Yes, and Miss Caty was showing me the sketch she did this morning," said the Colonel, holding up my sketch. It was of Lydia's cat, Fable, whom she barely took care of. I tended to the poor thing for most of his life and he rather enjoyed sleeping on top of the pianoforte, but he always fled when Mary entered the room knowing she would chase him off.  
  
"Miss Who?" asked Mary, confused at the Colonel's different address for me.  
  
"Never you mind, Mary. I was just about to take this sketch to my bedroom," I said as I crossed the room to take the sketch from the Colonel. As I grabbed the sketch, his fingertips brushed the side of my hand and I only slightly jumped, but it was not slightly enough for the Colonel to miss. He gave me an inquisitive look as I backed away, my face perhaps showing yet another expression of sheer terror. "Forgive me, I should have cleared this out this morning. I'll leave you two alone, then." I curtseyed to them both, the Colonel returning it with a bow, and I departed the room.

* * *

 _I cannot possibly explain what happened this morning, but it was most unusual. The Colonel came to tell us, in person, of an illness that Lizzy has developed, insisting that with bed rest, she will be fine; he gave his word that his cousin would have her in the greatest care, even though Mr. Darcy was in London to settle some legal things. He also mentioned another cousin, a young girl, who had very good hands and would also be tending to Lizzy. I knew that Lizzy was in good hands and truthfully, I believe all members of my family believe this to be true. Mama has asked the Colonel to stay for a bit and he will be living in the spare room beside mine and Lydia's, of course. I am sure he is here for Mary, and I do believe that he and Mary would make a very fine match._  
  
_Yours,_  
_  
Kitty Bennet_


	3. 20 - 21 April 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty gains a new nickname from the Colonel and the Colonel develops a fondness for her and her skill. Lydia starts to notice a change in Kitty's behaviour and makes it known to everyone that she isn't fond of it, but the Colonel stands up for her. Kitty learns of a certain left-handed trait that she and the Colonel share, and she learns of his feelings on Mary.

_Friday, 20 April 1813_  
  
_Not too much happened this week, as we are all waiting with anticipation to hear any information from Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth, but so far, we have heard nothing. Five days have passed since Lizzy's illness began and all of us have grown worried, including the Colonel. I don't believe Lydia is as concerned as she makes everyone believe she is. I have taken to trying to sketch more to take my mind off of my worry, as there was nothing I could do to help better the situation in any way._  
  
_The Colonel is just as clueless as I am, having offered something to everyone as a way to take their minds off of their worry. He has offered to read to Jane or accompany her to Netherfield, he has offered to play a duet with Mary despite claiming to have a horrid singing voice, he has offered to read to Mama and has listened to her complaints, he has offered to go fishing or riding with Papa, he has offered to take Lydia to town and to sit for a sketch for me. He has been most kind in trying to distract my family from their worries, but with the exception of Mama and Lydia, it has not worked._  
  
_This week did see some good, although it was more like a ray of sunshine between storm clouds. Nonetheless, it brought happiness for at least one evening, and it emerged from a storm brought on by Lydia. I do believe that it started Tuesday morning..._

* * *

Most of us sat in the drawing room early Tuesday afternoon, with the exception of Mama and Papa. Mary sat at the pianoforte quietly fingering the ivory keys, the cat sleeping peacefully on top of the pianoforte, Jane sat on the settee embroidering a cushion, the Colonel sat in a chair reading a volume, Lydia sat reclined on the other end of the settee sighing with a tone of hopeless boredom and staring out the window and I sat at the desk sketching the scene. After perhaps the fifth sigh from Lydia in ten minutes' time, Jane became irritated and stopped her embroidering.  
  
"Lydia, please, have some sense," she said to her youngest sister.  
  
"Sense in what?" asked Lydia. "I'm so bored and no one will go out to town with me." The Colonel glanced up from his volume.  
  
"You can at least act the part of a worried sister, Lydia," said I from the desk, and she sent a nasty glare in my direction. I did not believe her to be very fond of my newfound boldness, as usually, it was her at the other end of it. "And for your knowledge, the Colonel has offered to accompany you to Meryton on several occasions, all of which you have declined."  
  
"I am just as worried about Lizzy as you are, and I don't recall you offering that activity, Colonel," Lydia replied with a sly smile towards him.  
  
"You were asked not a half hour ago, Lydia, and you declined declaring it to be too hot outside. If you are as bored as you say you are, take Mama and visit Meryton and leave the poor Colonel alone. Do not expect him to accompany you again," said Jane calmly as she continued her embroidery.  
  
"I don't mind it, Miss Bennet, truly," the Colonel replied.  
  
"Believe me, Colonel, we are doing you a grand favour," I replied quietly, returns to my sketch. Lydia huffed and returned to staring out the window and the Colonel stood from his seat and approached me, leaning down beside me to have a better look at my sketch.  
  
"It's very lovely, Miss Caty," he muttered quietly.  
  
"What is it that you just called her?" Lydia asked, tuning into the conversation from the settee.  
  
"Miss Caty, madam," the Colonel replied calmly and politely.  
  
"I'm sorry to inform you, Colonel, but her name is Kitty. It has been all her life," Lydia said smugly, glancing at me. I returned her smug look with a nasty glare.  
  
"I'm afraid that Miss Caty has asked that I refrain from calling her 'Miss Kitty' and as a gentleman, who am I to do anything but abide her wishes? She prefers that I refer to her as 'Miss Caty' and if you do not agree with this, then you ought to feel blessed that you do not share Miss Caty's name, madam," the Colonel replied calmly, and I could hardly help the snort that came out of my mouth. Lydia was stunned into silence, but only for a moment.  
  
"It would be like having a dog and changing its name years after calling it something else. Kitty has been 'Kitty' for the past seventeen years and the name will follow her to her grave," Lydia replied.  
  
"Lydia!" Jane cried, gasping in shock at Lydia's inappropriate behaviour in front of the Colonel.  
  
"What? It's what happens when you've got nothing else going for you. Not elegance, not charm, not virtuosity and not beauty," Lydia said, proud to have her power over me yet again. At that, I slammed my sketchbook closed and stood, sketchbook in hand.  
  
"I cannot stand this any longer. I'm going for a walk," I said, and I began to quit the room.  
  
"I shall join you, Miss Caty," said he Colonel, closing his volume and standing.  
  
"Her name is 'Kitty', Colonel, once again. That has always been her name and it always will be her name, not anything else," said Lydia as he crossed the room.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss Lydia, but the name that Miss Caty prefers to be called by is not your choice," said the Colonel at my side. "If you ladies will excuse me, I shall fetch my coat." Mary and Jane stood and gave a curtsy in return for his bow and watched him exit the room. I couldn't help but glance at Lydia, who was now smirking at me, and I had to turn and exit through the front door to avoid hitting her precious face. It was quite an event for me, having heard Lydia be scolded for disturbing my peace by the Colonel. For as long as she had been alive, Lydia had never been scolded for doing me wrong and it was so refreshing to hear the Colonel do it. Not Mama nor Papa nor Mary nor Jane nor even Elizabeth ever scolded Lydia for such a thing, as they had always thought of me as frivolously foolish as Lydia. Perhaps I once was, but I didn't believe I had ever found my purpose. To be frank, on that day, I still didn't believe I had found my purpose, but I knew that I was on the right path to finding it; I had to divorce myself completely from Lydia and her actions, and perhaps the Colonel would help me.  
  
Suddenly, the front door opened, shoved me aside and off the edge of the small porch I went, falling about two feet into the bushes and my sketchbook flying out my hands, landing on the ground with the pages scattered everywhere. When I looked towards the door, I saw the Colonel peering out and looking for me, his blue eyes settling on me in the bushes. "Miss Caty! Forgive me, I did not realise you were behind the door!" he cried, quickly descending the stairs and abandoning them halfway to assist me from the bushes. "Are you hurt?"  
  
"No, no, not at all," I replied.  
  
"What in God's name were you doing behind that door? When I returned to the drawing room, Miss Bennet informed me that you had gone ahead of me and I had no idea you would still be-"  
  
"No worries, Colonel, I am quite all right," I said with a gentle giggle. I hadn't even realised it, but he continued to hold my hand when he had assisted me out of the bush, and I blushed when I thought of that; he let go of my hand.  
  
"Forgive me, madam," he said, his own cheeks flushing a gentle rosy colour. Feeling eyes on me, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Lydia staring maliciously out the window at me, then I returned my gaze to the Colonel's. "Your sketches have scattered about the place! Perhaps we should pick them up?" He bent down to collect my sketches while I stood in awe and watched him; he placed them back in my sketchbook, taking out the most recent one that he had been admiring in the drawing room before Lydia interrupted us. "You've got a very lovely hand," he said as he offered his right arm to me; I took it and glanced down at the sketch as we began to walk.  
  
"I'm afraid your eyesight is in need of a check, Colonel," I replied. "The lines are all off and the figures are slightly distorted."  
  
"But only slightly, Miss Caty. I dare say, you captured my profile quite well," he replied.  
  
"You poor thing, I made you hideous! You look nothing like that, Colonel, truly! You're a lot more handsome," I defended, but my eyes widened when he stopped us both and met my eyes, a gentle blush forming in his cheeks and a gentle smile forming to match it.  
  
"Handsome?" he questioned, and I, too, blushed.  
  
"Don't you often hear that from women?" I asked, and he shook his head. "Oh..." In silence, we continued walking for a few moments.  
  
"I glanced in your direction a few times when you were sketching and when you began, you had your charcoal in your right hand, but when you believed no one was looking, I saw you with your charcoal in your left. Are you left-handed?" he asked me, and I chuckled.  
  
"If I say yes, will you condemn me to hell?" I asked, and he, too, chuckled.  
  
"I would condemn myself to hell, then, for I, too, am left-handed," the Colonel confessed, and I turned to him.  
  
"Really?" He nodded. "I've always tried to be like my sisters and perform my daily activities with my right hand, but it's quite hard. Mama disapproves of it and says I'll go to hell for it, but it's not something I can help."  
  
"You and I were born with the ability to use our left hands, but not our right. It isn't something we can help, no, and something we should not be condemned to hell for."  
  
"Not at all. Who even started that silly belief?" The Colonel chuckled, tucking away my sketch in the sketchbook.  
  
"It's an old medieval belief. Very much outdated." I smiled lightly, then we continued to walk in silence. It was a bit chilly, as it was still April and not quite warm enough for the biting air to be done with, and I had left my coat behind; how Lydia believed it to be too hot was beyond me. I felt childish beside the Colonel, who was even older than Mr. Darcy; he made me feel like a girl, almost. I suppose we were still girls, some of us. Mary was soon to be nineteen, I was barely eighteen and Lydia was barely sixteen. I let out a gentle chuckle to myself as I realised that I was still indeed a girl and much younger than I realised. Sometimes, I felt myself to be Lizzy's age or Jane's age, but truly, I was barely a woman. I was still developing both physically and mentally; still growing not only my body, but my character as well. I still didn't know what words could be used to define me, what talents or skills I possessed besides sketching. Surely, I had to have a better purpose than being an artist, if I could even call myself one at all. I gave a light shiver, but the feeling of a heavy cloth being draped over my shoulders startled me and I forgot how chilly the air was.  
  
"Forgive me, madam, but you appeared cold," said the Colonel's voice beside me, and I stopped to meet his eyes.  
  
"Thank you, Colonel," I replied quietly.  
  
"Your father has a very beautiful estate," he said after a moment of silence as we walked along the edge of Longbourn. "And you've no brothers?"  
  
"Not one," said I.  
  
"It would be a great shame to see it fall into the hands of the odious Mr. Collins," he said. "Forgive me, I should not speak so ill of your cousin."  
  
"We have no interest in him either, Colonel, believe me. I speak in confidence when I declare that my sisters and I have come to call him 'Sir Lover of Boiled Potatoes' after his comments on our supper one evening." The two of us shared a laugh, the Colonel smiling wider than I had seem him smile before.  
  
"The man admires others' opinions of himself and values them over his own. He greatly admires my aunt, the Lady Catherine de Bourgh."  
  
"She's had some terrible things to say about Lizzy and I even overheard Lizzy say that she insulted Mary. My sister may sometimes be a bore, but she still is a fine woman, is she not?" The Colonel nodded.  
  
"I fancied her a little, but I don't believe she could ever have fancied me." He continued to speak, but I lost myself in my thoughts. He fancied Mary? That was why he came? Was he also only interested in me because Mary was paying him no heed? Once things returned to normal, surely, she would and he would then marry her and leave me only with memories of his kind words. But what of Mr. Casey? I had been under the impression for weeks that Mary admired him! What would he even think- "Miss Caty? Are you all right?" I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced up at him, at the face I had once believed so kind and caring, and nodded gently.  
  
"Yes, of course," I said quietly, then removed his coat from my shoulders and handed it to him.  
  
"Miss Caty..." he said with concern laced through his voice.  
  
"I'm fine," I replied. "I'm quite well, actually. Perhaps we should return, we haven't a chaperone." That was what I told myself, and I returned home, completely forgetting that I had left my sketchbook in his hand.

* * *

 _For the following few days, I had tried to recall Mr. Casey to Mary's attentions, although I do not know why. I had not a care in the world for any feelings I had once possessed for Colonel Fitzwilliam; he was no more to me than a mere friendly acquaintance. Mary could make him much happier than I, for she is not frivolous and she is very accomplished. I'll have a reputation of flirtatious frivolity following me for the rest of my life and because of it, I can never be taken seriously again. And I've lost Mama and Lydia as friends._  
  
_Yours,_  
  
_Ca-_ **_(scratched)_ ** _Kitty Bennet_

* * *

 _Saturday, 21 April 1813_  
  
_The date is the twenty-first of April, as it is well past midnight, but I cannot find sleep. My mind is filled with thoughts that I do not even want to admit to myself. I do not quite know what to even say for myself, let alone my thoughts. I feel guilty, almost. I have ignored the Colonel for the better part of the last three days. He does not know why, but I believe that I have stepped back and allowed him to resume his fancy of Mary uninterrupted by me. Silly, frivolous, flirtatious me. She deserves him much more anyhow, and I never loved him. And he never loved me, nor would he. I'm much too young for him. But then again, Mary is only a year or so older than myself._  
  
_I allowed myself to sketch the Colonel's face tonight in hopes of seeking peace and I've hidden it in my sketchbook in hopes of never finding it again. Perhaps now I may get some peace._  
  
_Yours,_  
_  
Kitty Bennet._


	4. 27 April 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty and Lydia get into an argument and Lydia accuses her of becoming like Elizabeth and insults the Colonel. Unable to sleep, Kitty reflects on some of the changes that she has observed in herself since the beginning of the month. She finds the Colonel still awake in the drawing room reading a volume and they share a heart to heart talk, which draws them even closer together.

_Tuesday, 27 April 1813_   
  
_Tonight was a night of beauty, of confusion and of so much more, but those words could hardly do it justice. I feel like a silly schoolgirl, or like Lydia, but after what happened tonight, how could I not? Allow me to recount tonight's events..._

* * *

It was well past midnight when I realised that sleep would not come to me. Was it distress from an earlier event or was it guilt for treating the Colonel so poorly? Perhaps it was distress over what I had become? I'd snubbed the Colonel quite a good deal of the week and paid him little heed, although I had expected him to start paying attention to Mary again. However, he was not, and I began to wonder if I had made a mistake in assuming where his affections lie.   
  
Despite my snubbing, he had always been kind to me. He complimented me on my drawings and offered to sit for me in various poses for me to sketch. He continued to defend me from Lydia and after almost a fortnight, he had gotten my family into the habit of calling me various names other than 'Kitty', with the exception of Mama and Lydia. To Jane and Mary, I was Cathy; to Papa, I was Catherine. But just to the Colonel, I was Caty, and I believed that of all the names my family had for me, Caty was my favourite. Mama insisted on continuing to call me 'Kitty' due to the fact that it had been her pet name for me ever since birth, so I had no objections, but Lydia called me Kitty out of spite. Whenever the Colonel heard her address me as so, he would always say something that contains the words, 'Miss Caty' to remind Lydia that she had no control over me, and every time, it made me flush.   
  
I had stopped wearing colourful frocks and gave them all to Lydia; instead, I began to wear the dresses that Mary had given me the previous year when she grew out of hers. They weren't as dark as the ones she had been wearing recently; they were more like Elizabeth's, with earthly tones and such. Some were brown, some were green, others were blue or red or even violet. My favourite was a blue dress and I wore it as often as I could. It was a dark navy blue, almost, and along the waist was white ribbon and flowers embroidered in between that I had asked Jane to do; around the neckline was a transparent white collar that closed up the neckline of the dress a bit. I started to wear my hair differently and it pleased me very much to hear Jane tell Papa, as I had passed the library one day earlier this week, how much I had changed, and for the better. "She's growing up," Papa remarked, "and it's about time, too."   
  
Getting back to the night that I lie awake, I had been trying hard not to cry myself to sleep. Only hours before, Lydia and I had gotten into an argument very different from any argument we had ever had before in the past. It started when I was sitting in the windowsill sketching the night sky when Lydia entered the room, standing in the doorway with both hands on either side. "May we talk, Kitty?" she asked me, startling me from my sketching. Turning to her, I nodded and set down my sketchbook. She closed the door behind her as she entered the room, then stopped at the centre of it.   
  
"Is something wrong, Lydia?" I asked her as she stood there. Her facial expression read signs of distress and it looked as if she were struggling to think of what to say. "Lydia?"   
  
"We can no longer be friends as we used to be," she said suddenly, taking me aback.   
  
"What? Lydia, whatever could you possibly mean?" I asked her, wondering if this was yet another attempt at being dramatic. Truly, she could play a much better Lady Macbeth than Miss Sarah Siddons, and that was meaningful; I had seen Miss Siddons when visiting my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner a couple of years ago in a production of Mr. William Shakespeare's Macbeth, and she was quite phenomenal, but Lydia had her beat as far as acting talents went. However, I had grown up with Lydia and knew when she was acting and when she was not.   
  
"You are not Lizzy!" she cried. "Ever since Lizzy left and married, you have slowly been turning into her! How you dress and how you act, even Jane is starting to turn to you in confidence! And the Colonel is clearly in love with you-"   
  
"In love with me? Lydia, don't be silly!" I interrupted.   
  
"See? That is exactly what Lizzy would say! You have turned into her, but you are not her! You were never as graceful as Jane nor as earthbound as Lizzy nor as accomplished as Mary nor as pretty as me, so you have been trying your hardest to become like one of us! You have no trait, so you steal it from everyone else!"   
  
"That isn't true!" I cried, standing up and facing her. "I am not trying to be Lizzy. I know I am not as elegant as Jane nor as earthbound as Lizzy nor as accomplished as Mary nor as pretty as you, but at least I'm not as trusting as Jane nor as stubborn as Lizzy nor have expectations as high as Mary nor as silly and frivolous and absolutely ridiculous as you!" I spat back, utterly fed up with her nonsense. "And as for the Colonel, he is not in love with me nor I with him. He is in love with Mary, and he has told me so himself. He and I are merely friends and that is all we ever will be. Not every friendship between a man and a girl is romantic."   
  
"I don't like the Colonel. He is too bold and boisterous and obnoxious and stupid and above all, hideous for any member of this family, even for you. Even for Mary, she deserves way better than him and can easily do better than him. He is the kind of man that spinsters marry because he is so old and he is only toying with your heart for sport," Lydia replied.   
  
"You don't like the Colonel because he is the only one outside of this family to openly put you in your place. Perhaps I am partially acting the part of Lizzy because Papa is too tired and too used to your foolish frivolity, Mama encourages it, Jane is too shy and Mary doesn't care enough to do it, so somebody has to do it and it might as well be me! You've caused me enough distress over the years, forcing me into your shadow. I allowed you, a foolish, childish thing, to walk all over me for far too long!" At this, she silenced, then after a moment, began to sniffle. "Oh, don't start! I'm tired of it! Tired of your fake tears and your acting and your annoying flirty ways. I've never had a man hold an interest in me because of you and I have never found a true friend because of you!"   
  
"How could you be so cruel, Kitty?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.   
  
"Not cruel, Lydia, exhausted. Tired of having to put up with being your shadow for so long, but I'll do it no longer," I replied. " And I'll thank you not to refer to me as such again. Cat, Caty, Cathy, Cate or even Catherine will do just fine." She stared at me a moment longer, sniffling and allowing tears to begin to fall down her cheeks. She then turned on her heel and ran out of the room.   
  
"Mama! Mama! Kitty is being mean to me!" she cried as she ran down the hallway. Once I was alone, I threw myself on my bed stomach-down and screamed into my pillow, beating the mattress with my fists and my feet. Goodness, how I hated Lydia at that very moment! Of course, a few hours later, I was all right with sharing a room with her and she was back to gossiping about news of Meryton and talking senselessly about her 'dear Mr. Wickham'. Gosh, it made me sick, her senseless prattling about a man she had only just met a short while ago. She still barely knew him, whether she admitted it or not, because I knew her, and she wouldn't dare take the time to get to know his character.   
  
I didn't sleep that night, as the entire argument kept me awake. Had I truly turned into Lizzy? Had I gone from being a shadow to the frivolous and flirtatious Lydia to being a shadow of the bold and strong Lizzy? Was that all I was? A shadow? At half past one, I got up and wrapped myself in a shawl and slid my slippers onto my feet. I lit a candle and stopped to admire my reflection in the mirror of our vanity. With my hair braided to the side, I sort of did look almost like a shadow to Lizzy. My hair was the same shade of dark brown, my face was small and rounded, my nose upturned, my lips thin and unflattering, my eyes a bright shade of blue, much like Jane's, and I was lightly built. I wasn't very tall, but I wasn't stout either; I couldn't have been much shorter than the Colonel himself. I let out a sigh at my appearance, wondering why I had bothered to look; it only added to my sadness. I padded lightly out of mine and Lydia's childhood bedroom and quietly down the stairs, hoping not to awaken anyone. I found myself stopping halfway down, as I could see a light emanating from the drawing room. Approaching slowly, I descended the stairs and appeared slowly in the doorway of the drawing room, peering in to see its occupant; it was the Colonel. He sat in the same chair he always sat in opposite of the entrance to the drawing room reading a thick volume, although he was near its end. I decided to return to my bed, but a squeaky floorboard betrayed my presence; he looked up.   
  
"Good evening, Miss Caty. Did I wake you?" he said, lowering his volume into his lap.   
  
"No, I... I couldn't sleep," I replied. "Do forgive me for my appearance, I had no idea that you would be-"   
  
"No worries, Miss Caty. You are a permanent occupant of this house and I the intruder," he replied.   
  
"No, you're not intruding... Am I?"   
  
"Are you what?"   
  
"Intruding. On your thoughts or your volume or..."   
  
"No. No, I was merely reading. I couldn't sleep myself. Am I intruding on yours? You appear rather melancholy."   
  
"Oh... No, not at all. I came down here, I suppose, for the same reason as yourself. But we have another parlour and I may entertain myself there so as not to intrude on your solitude. Good evening, Colonel." I gave him a curtsy and began to turn.   
  
"Please, by all means, share my solitude. Join me, if you will, Miss Caty. Perhaps we can assist each other with our melancholy thoughts." I turned to face him, then nodded and took a seat on the end of the settee that was farthest from him. "Are you well, Miss Caty?"   
  
"Of course. I can't complain of any ailments."   
  
"I meant your thoughts, madam. You appear to be haunted by something reoccurring that does not wish to depart your mind."   
  
"P-perhaps a little, but I believe we all are haunted by at least one."   
  
"Yes, perhaps we are." He sat there for a moment, silently staring at the floor with his chin in his hand. "I heard an argument upstairs, and Miss Lydia calling for your mother. I thought I heard her shouting something of you. I don't mean to intrude-"   
  
"It's fine, really-"   
  
"-but you appear to be in great distress, and if it would clear your conscience to confide in me, then I would be happy to be your confidant. If not, I can understand." I looked at him silently for a moment before nodding calmly.   
  
"What is my purpose, Colonel? Who am I?"   
  
"Who are you?" He chuckled lightly. "Madam, you are Miss Catherine Bennet, the prettiest of all the Bennet girls and-"   
  
"I mean what is my character, sir. I cannot think of a single defining trait that I possess. All my life, I shadowed Lydia because it was all I could think of doing, I thought I would grow out of it and find myself, but I never did. And only today, Lydia accused me of shadowing Lizzy. I don't want to be any of my sisters, Colonel. I don't want to be as elegant and as poised as Jane or as bold and outspoken as Lizzy or as talented and accomplished as Mary or as frivolous and silly as Lydia, I want to be someone of my own! Colonel, if you know, please tell me who I am!" I cried out in desperation, then buried my face in my palms and began to cry. "Forgive me, please..." I got up and started to exit quickly, but I was stopped when the Colonel crossed the room in two strides and stopped me, taking me into his arms and gently rubbing my shoulders.   
  
"Hush, now, Miss Caty, and please don't cry. I can't stand to see a lady cry because I never know what words to give of comfort," he whispered to me gently.   
  
"I am no lady, so please let me go!" I cried, although I made no effort to remove myself from his arms.   
  
"Shhh... Allow me to answer your questions, Miss Caty."   
  
"Oh, please don't! I'm humiliated and ruined in your eyes! I've figured it out anyhow, I'm the forgotten Bennet sister. That is who I am."   
  
"Your image is not even tainted in my eyes, Miss Caty," he told me, pulling away slightly to glance down at me. He was perhaps three or four inches taller than me and I discovered him not to be very athletically built, but it made it easier to hold onto him. "You are still so young; of course you haven't found yourself yet, and no one has bothered to show you, so allow me. You are not the forgotten Bennet sister and you are no shadow of your sisters, not Miss Bennet, not Mrs. Darcy, not Miss Mary and certainly not Miss Lydia. You might not even realise it and your sisters might all be blind to it, but you are entirely your own girl - excuse me, woman - and are no shadow of any of your sisters. You might be somewhat silly at times, but it is the good kind of silly. You have a kind heart and a brilliant mind and of all women I have ever met, you are the most accomplished artist. For as long as I have known you, and that is nearly a fortnight now, I have studied your character and found it to be one most unlike any that I have ever seen."   
  
"L-Lydia had not... Not the nicest things to say about you..."   
  
"And I couldn't care more. Hideous is a word I'm used to hearing when being described by young ladies, was that one of them?" I took a moment before nodding in reply. "I never cared for the opinions of young flirtatious things who are interested only in my title. Unfortunately, those are the only women I have ever happened to become acquainted with." We stood there in silence for what felt like hours, but was a mere minute or so. "Miss Caty, I feel that now is the right time to tell you..." He separated from me and took my hand in his. "I have felt myself-"   
  
The sound of a loud clap of thunder that had followed a bright flash in the sky startled us both and caused us to tighten our grips on each other, my arms throwing themselves around the Colonel's midsection and my face burying itself into his chest while his arms wrapped tightly around my body and pulled me closer towards him and away from the window. After the thunder subsided, I emerged from the Colonel's chest and met his eyes, and he smiled warmly at me. "It is only a storm, Caty, dear."   
  
"Oh," I said with a gentle smile, and I giggled quietly. "A very loud storm."   
  
"A very loud storm, indeed," replied the Colonel, and he glanced at the clock across the room. "It's very late, Miss Caty." His gaze returned to mine. "Perhaps you ought to get some rest."   
  
"What about you?" I asked him.   
  
"I'm very accustomed to sleepless nights," he replied, then he let go of me and took a step back. "Goodnight, Miss Caty." I nodded, my expression having fallen at his mention of the time.   
  
"Goodnight, Colonel," I replied with a curtsy, which he returned with a bow.   
  
"I shall see you tomorrow, or rather later this morning when the sun has risen," he said with a smile; I, too, smiled and turned on my heel, giving one final glance at the cat upon the pianoforte - which hadn't moved, as if it had not witnessed the rather inappropriate scene between the Colonel and I - before I climbed the stairs to mine and Lydia's bedroom. 

* * *

_I reflect now back on what the Colonel had said to me in the drawing room. What were his unfinished thoughts that had been interrupted by the storm? His unfinished thoughts will haunt me for the rest of tonight, I am certain of it. Was he going to declare feelings for me? Was he planning on proposing to me? I've barely known him a fortnight, what is it that he could possibly declare after barely a fortnight? Oh, Colonel, I shall never sleep tonight because of you, but I believe I am starting to enjoy such sleepless nights. I'll never know what came over me in the drawing room tonight, to open up to him like that... I'm still so embarrassed. How does he not think poorly of me? Perhaps Lydia is right..._   
  
_Yours,_   
_  
_ _Cat-_ **_(scratched)_ ** _Kitty Bennet_


	5. 1 May 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty gives the Colonel a small lesson in Welsh, teaching him words she had picked up from a childhood friend. The Colonel expresses his feelings to Kitty, but Kitty panics and flees - she sees him as a friend. The Colonel believes he is distressing her and writes her a note asking her if she would like him to leave.

_Saturday, 1 May 1813_   
  
_I've had a lot of time to think this past week. With Lydia no longer disturbing my peace and going to town with Mama or a servant, I found myself alone many times. I have still been avoiding the Colonel, only I have been allowing him to grace me with his presence on a few occasions. Often, I keep to myself, still embarrassed with how I had acted the night of that terrible storm. Sometimes, I would just happen upon the Colonel, stay for a moment to avoid being rude, and would then leave; others, he would happen upon me and insist on staying, but I would then find another task in another room. I have begun to wonder if he is deliberately putting himself in my path, so I have decided to make walking more frequent. Today, for example, I decided to take a long walk shortly after noon..._

* * *

I walked along the muddy road, still damp after a night rainfall that had come the night before. The hem of my dress was muddied only a little, but not as badly as I had seen Lizzy's in the past when she returned from her walks. The breeze was light and I could feel the warmth of summer laced through it, although the biting chill had not yet departed. I wrapped a shawl around my arms to keep warm, especially when I happened upon a bit of shade. In the sun, the breeze was warm and fresh, but in the shadows, it was still so chilly; I clutched my sketchbook tightly against my chest.  
  
The hilly countryside in Hertfordshire in May was golden with a hint of green, telling of the approaching summer. The trees were leafy again and brushed against each other in the breeze; I could not tell if they were whispering secrets or hissing insults when the breeze wafted through them. The breeze carried a scent of earth and a light scent of wildflower, as there was a field full of wild flowers nearby. Some of them bore an aroma so strong that when we picked them, the room we chose to display them in would smell of them for up to a week. The earthy scent came from the fresh rain that had finished early in the morning, probably near dawn. It left the ground slightly soft and damp, but it was not enough to ruin my shoes entirely. They certainly would need a good cleaning upon my return.   
  
The breeze picked up the further I walked uphill, as was expected. The higher off of the ground you were, the stronger the breeze. I stopped at the top of the hill and admired the countryside below me. The smaller hills looked like wrinkles in bedsheets or stones under deep snow, the houses looked like figurines, the lake looked like a puddle... By the lake, I could see a figure standing. He appeared well dressed, so I began to wonder if it was Mr. Bingley standing at its banks; I began to approach, but upon nearing, I noticed that it was not Mr. Bingley but instead, the Colonel. He stood beside a large boulder skipping stones off the surface of the lake, not even hearing my approaching footsteps behind him. He himself appeared melancholy, with his head hanging down and his fingers fiddling with the next stone before he pulled his left hand back and whipped it towards the lake; it skipped three times. I smiled to myself, recalling him telling me of his left-handedness and how it was nothing to be ashamed of. Somehow, a left-handed man seemed more appealing to me than a man who used his right. I had not the desire to disturb him, for from behind, he seemed at peace.   
  
"How are you, Colonel?" I heard myself call, much at my own dismay. I had not wanted to face him properly - and alone - after that incident in the drawing room due to my embarrassment at my brash words, and yet I had called to him almost unconsciously. He had been in the middle of throwing another stone when I had spoken and it startled him; he dropped it and turned to me with his eyes wide. "Oh, forgive me, sir. I had no intentions of disturbing your peace."   
  
"I'm not disturbed, Miss Caty, or at least I don't find myself to be disturbed," he replied after a moment once he had seen that it was I who had disturbed him; anyone else, I believe, would have elicited a somewhat uncivil response. "Come, join me. The sun is warm and the day has yet to begin waning." The boulder he sat on was flat and wide, so I did join him in sitting down on it. "Did you bring your sketchbook and charcoal?"   
  
"Of course I did," I replied. I loved bringing my sketchbook with me when I took walks and if I saw something that caught my interest, I would sit down to sketch it.   
  
"What a serene scene before us. I've been admiring it all morning. Beautiful, is it not? Perfect for a sketch, I would say," he said with a smile, but I had already opened my sketchbook and began sketching the scene as he spoke. He chuckled lightly as he watched me, noticing that I had my charcoal in my right hand. "You don't have to use your right hand in my company, Miss Caty; your secret is safe with me." I smiled gently and switched my charcoal to my left as the breeze picked up. The birds were chirping and the Colonel watched me in silence, leaning against the boulder to watch my hand. I held up my right hand to figure out the scale and distance when a robin suddenly landed on my hand, eliciting a gasp from me and a chuckle from the Colonel.   
  
"Well, hello, _aderyn bach_ !" I said to the little bird, and I glanced over at the Colonel's smiling face.   
  
" _Aderyn bach_ ? What's that mean?" he asked me.   
  
"It's Welsh for 'little bird'," I replied with a smile. "I had a friend once who had a mother that came from Wales. He taught me a few words, such as 'little bird' and 'dear' and 'beautiful'."   
  
"And what is the Welsh word for ' beautiful dear'?" asked the Colonel curiously.   
  
" _Hardd annwyl_ ," I said as I flipped the page in my sketchbook and began to sketch the robin. The Colonel remained silent for a moment and watched me.   
  
"If you were in anyone else's company, would you disturb that bird for the sake of propriety?" he asked suddenly, and I paused, before shaking my head.   
  
"No, I don't think I would. A few weeks ago, perhaps, but not now," I said, then I continued my sketch and more silence followed. I was almost complete with the sketch when the Colonel spoke again.   
  
"What a beautiful bird... Or shall I say, _aderyn hardd_ ?" he said with a smile.   
  
"Most beautiful indeed," I replied, my eyes on the bird on my hand. He must have sensed some sort of apprehension in my tone, for he remained silent for a moment before speaking again.   
  
"Tell me, Miss Caty, have I done something to upset you?" I turned to him, eyes slightly widened and my mouth slightly agape; the robin took flight off of my hand and I watched it disappear into the sky for a moment before returning my attention to him. How intuitive was this man? How close did he pay attention to detail?   
  
"Certainly not, Colonel! What would give you such an impression?" I asked, although the question was pointless, for I knew the answer already.   
  
"When we first met, you seemed so eager to be in my company, but as of late, you appear to have been avoiding my presence. Conversations between us are also short and your replies are just as short. Did I say something to disturb your peace of mind?" I sat in silence for a moment, holding my sketchbook close against my chest.   
  
"No," I said, at first confident in my answer. "I mean... Yes." I stood and faced him. "Yes, Colonel, you did."   
  
Standing as well, he said, "Whatever could I have said, Miss Caty? I apologise sincerely if I have offended you. Offending you was never my intention-"   
  
"You didn't offend me, Colonel!" I cried, startling him slightly. "No, it wasn't offensive at all! Nothing you said upset me in that way!"   
  
"Then what was it? Miss Caty, please-"   
  
"It's not really what you said, it's what you started to say... Before that storm interrupted us." He froze, any worry on his face being replaced with fear or nervousness - they were so alike that I could never tell the difference.   
  
"It... It has made you doubtful..."   
  
"No-"   
  
"Apprehensive, then?"   
  
"Well, no-"   
  
"Frightened? Afraid that I might say something that you cannot properly reply to?"   
  
"Colonel, no-"   
  
"Then tell me!" Both of us froze; he had approached me with a look in his face that frightened me. I was near the bank of the lake and he mere inches from me. That was when the anger in his expression faded to sincere and apologetic. "I... I am terribly sorry, Miss Caty, please-"   
  
"I have to go," I said, and I pushed past him and started walking away from him at a quickened pace, abandoning my sketchbook and charcoal on the boulder.   
  
"Miss Caty!" he called after me, and I broke out into a run. I had forgotten all about my bonnet as the ribbons undid themselves and the breeze lifted it from my head. I didn't mind losing my shawl on a bush near the entrance of Longbourn either, and I rushed inside to lock myself in the bedroom I shared with Lydia. I cried into my pillow, not knowing what else to do besides that. I was stricken with so much emotion that I was deprived of the energy to stop my tears from coming. I remained alone there for a couple of hours, then repaired my appearance and went down to the drawing room acting as if nothing had gone wrong. My sisters were all there doing their usual activities: Jane embroidering on the settee, Lydia trying to read a book, Mary at the pianoforte and I sat at the desk trying to sort through my thoughts.   
  
"Where has the Colonel been all day?" asked Jane suddenly several minutes after I had sat down. "I haven't seen him once. Cathy, have you?" Startled from my thoughts at the mention of the Colonel, I perked up and turned my attention to her.   
  
"Hm? Oh, I last saw him at the lake earlier this afternoon. I have no inclination of where he could be now," I replied quickly and with no emotion; Jane glanced at me suspiciously.   
  
"Is that so," she replied after a moment, and I nodded. We were left in silence a short while longer when the front door opened and the Colonel entered the drawing room, my bonnet in one hand and my shawl and sketchbook in another. He bowed to us and we stood to return it with a curtsy, then the Colonel began to approach me. He stopped in front of me, his eyes on mine and I looking up into his face; a hardened neutral expression overtook his face and his eyes were boring into mine.   
  
"Your shawl, your sketchbook and your bonnet, madam," he said as he handed them to me. "You dropped them on your return from the lake." His expression was stiff as he silently awaited a reply, so I nodded.   
  
"Yes," I said quietly. "Thank you, Colonel, for returning them to me."   
  
"It is my pleasure, madam," he said, then took a step back to politely bow to me; I returned it with a curtsy. He then turned to my sisters and bowed. "Misses Bennet." They curtseyed in return, and he then departed the room. I stood there watching him, not knowing what the expression on my face read.   
  
"If I had no sense, I would say Cathy is in love," said Mary from the pianoforte, confusing me. He seemed almost angry or irritated when he entered the drawing room, so why was Mary speaking of love?   
  
"Perhaps she is," said Jane, also admiring the expression on my face.   
  
"In love? With the Colonel?" I asked, then glanced at Lydia; she was smirking from her seat on the settee. "Don't be daft... The Colonel can do much better." I then took my own leave of the room to bring my bonnet, my sketchbook and my shawl to my room, but upon placing the bonnet on a rod of mine and Lydia's hat rack, a folded piece of parchment fell from it. I bent down to pick it up, then saw my name scrawled out in the Colonel's handwriting on the front. I was compelled to sit down in the windowsill and read it.   
  
_To Miss Caty Bennet,_   
  
_It has come to my attention that my presence here at Longbourn is distressing you as of late. Distressing you was the last thing on my mind when I heeded your mother's request and stayed longer than I had intended to. I will admit that if I had not had you anchoring me here, I would have left the company of your family long before now. However, you were the sole reason I stayed, as I could not help but to admire your beautiful appearance and personality._   
  
_I fear I am no good at writing letters of sentiment, so I would much rather say it in person. Of course, I am no better at speaking than I am in writing, but I shall try my best, if you will grant me the privilege of speaking to you in private. If not, I will understand, and I shall remove myself from your home if I continue to distress you with my presence._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_   
  
I sat there rereading his note several times. Between the lines, I could sense something that at the time, I was trying so hard to deny was true. It almost sounded like... No. No, he couldn't be. He wouldn't be. Even Lydia said he couldn't be. A part of me wanted to seek him out, leap into his arms and be told that everything was going to be all right, but the rest of me wanted to convince myself that that could never happen. I leaned against the windowpane and ran a finger over the words that the Colonel had written. Why was thinking of him so painful? Why did it even have to be? We were friends, and nothing more and I swore to it. I saw something move out of the corner of my eye and glancing out the window, I saw the Colonel just standing there in the mud and hay. A hen rushed his foot and he shook it off, and I giggled lightly to myself. I placed my palm against the glass and watched him stand there interacting with various things such as the breeze, a bit of mud or a hen; I raced to the writing desk and scribbled out a small note, then rushed down to the drawing room to find the volume that the Colonel had been reading, sticking the note between the pages.   
  
"What are you doing?" asked Lydia, watching me at the bookshelf.   
  
"Returning a book," I replied as I replaced the book on the shelf. The note read: _At a later date, but I would love more than anything to hear your words. - C.B._

* * *

_At supper, he sat across from me and every occasional glance I gave him, his eyes were cast down. I believe I felt disappointed that he was paying me no heed, but then I remembered that he had yet to open his volume. When we entered the drawing room later that evening, I watched carefully over my own book as he opened his volume and witnessed the note slipping from the pages and into his lap. I watched as he discreetly opened it behind the volume, and I then blushed and hid behind my book when his eyes met mine. I do believe I caught a gentle smile form on his face._   
  
_Whatever feelings and thoughts I possess I am certain fall under a name, but most certainly, that name is not 'love'. I continue to insist that the Colonel and I are simply friends, and nothing more. That is what I want to believe._   
  
_Yours,_   
_  
_ _Caty_ **_(scratched)_ ** _Kitty_ **_(scratched)_ ** _Kitty Bennet_


	6. 6 - 10 May 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty, now referring to herself as Caty, asks the Colonel to meet her at the lake and sketches him. He nearly stumbles into the lake, luckily caught by Caty, and he loses his balance once more and topples on top of her. Caty shows him her sketch of him and he is touched by it. Caty finally realises her feelings for the Colonel and makes a reference to a childhood romance in her journal entry.

_Thursday, 6 May 1813_   
  
_How foolish of me! How absolutely foolish! In the letter I sent to Lizzy today, I sent her some sketches I had done - one of all of us sisters together, one of the lake near home and one of our home - and asked her opinion on them, but I hadn't realised that I had accidentally placed my sketch of the Colonel in with them! Oh, I am so humiliated! How could I be so foolish? I wrote to Lizzy as soon as I had discovered it missing and asked her to send it back, hoping I could at least have it back by the end of the week. She will laugh senselessly at me, especially at how I mentioned the Colonel in my letter to her!_   
  
_In other news, the Colonel and I still have not spoken alone, but we do frequently sit in the drawing room in the company of others._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Caty Bennet_

* * *

_Monday, 10 May 1813_   
  
_We still have yet to hear word on Lizzy and her condition, but earlier in the afternoon, we did receive a letter from Miss Darcy telling us how our sister was doing. She said that Lizzy had only just left her bedchamber a few days before, still feeling ill, but her letter was dated with Saturday's date. She also sent back, in a smaller envelope, my sketch of the Colonel with a note that said 'I've been in correspondence with my cousin; you've captured him very well. If you're as fond of him as he is of you, I encourage you to show your affection'. I was rather humiliated that Miss Darcy had seen my sketch and even further worried that she had told the Colonel of it, so I had decided that today was a good day to have that discussion he had been hoping to have..._

* * *

Early in the morning, before the Colonel himself had left his room, I had slipped a note beneath the door telling him to meet me at the lake, as I had intentions of spending the day there painting it. I had done quite a few sketches and decided instead to try my hand at painting, bringing a few powdered pigments and a jar for water. I had with me a larger sketchbook in which I would sketch out the scene in charcoal, outline it in pencil and then paint in the colours. I was still in the process of sketching when the Colonel arrived behind me.  
  
"You asked me to meet you here, Miss Caty?" he asked suddenly and I jumped at the disturbance of silence.   
  
"Oh! Yes, Colonel, I did indeed," I said. "Do stand there in front of the lake, I think my painting would look far more wonderful with you in it." He complied, standing about five metres from me in front of the lake.   
  
"You're painting today?" he asked, and I nodded. "In what medium?"   
  
"Watercolour," I replied. "It's the easiest to transport and besides, my family can't quite afford oil..." I flushed at the embarrassment, not liking to reveal my family's financial status to anyone, let alone a gentleman.   
  
"If you would like-"   
  
"No!" I stopped my sketch and looked up at him boldly, then flushed even more. "Forgive me, I... I very much like watercolour. It's light and portable and less of a mess to clean..." I returned to my sketch, starting on his figure; it was the only thing missing from the sketch.   
  
"Did you summon me here to sketch me, Miss Caty?" he asked after a moment.   
  
"No, I only thought of it as you approached," I replied honestly. "I believe you wanted to have a conversation?"   
  
"Yes, I did... So much time has passed since that I fear my memory on the subject is poor."   
  
"I apologise for delaying, Colonel. I must admit, I've been a bit coy about it..."   
  
"As most young ladies are." We sat in silence a little longer before he spoke again. "The weather is most certainly fine today. Lots of birds singing and rabbits hopping about. I do believe that the weather is so fine, the fish in this very lake behind me are being drawn to the surface, only for the birds to catch them for their supper." At that, I started giggling and had to lift my charcoal from the paper before I ruined a line.   
  
"Colonel, please stop moving or I shall ruin it!" I said with a smile.   
  
"Miss Caty, you could never ruin any of your drawings. You have such a fine and stable hand and even a flaw will be seen as a perfection," he replied, returning the smile.   
  
"Colonel, I've only been drawing for a short period. I've barely developed a style, let alone any skill," I told him.   
  
"And yet, you have gained so much skill in that short period of time, Miss Caty. You are truly a gifted artist and that is coming from your subject." I smiled and did not reply, as I was doing my best to sketch the details of his face. I noticed then how square his jaw was and how stout he truly was, but never mind that; he had handsome features still, such as a pair of exciting eyes, a noble nose and a strong smile. When I glanced up again, he was watching a bird in a tree, not even paying attention to what he was doing. I watched him step back to try and get a better look at the bird, not even noticing his approach to the bank of the lake.   
  
"Colonel!" I cried as he slipped off the edge. Throwing my charcoal and sketchbook aside, I leapt up and ran to him, grabbing his wrists and pulling him back over the grass before he could fall in. I lost my own footing and fell backwards, bringing the Colonel down on top of me in what would have been a very compromising situation had we been witnessed. For a moment, we lie there rather disillusioned, and when he looked into my eyes, I felt every emotion I had felt ever since the Colonel arrived. Sadness, confusion, happiness, all of it was there in my eyes for the Colonel to see. I believe... I believe that was the moment I fell in love with him. As I looked into his eyes, I knew right then and there that I loved Colonel Fitzwilliam and that it was more than just some silly teenage infatuation with a redcoat.   
  
"Thank you... Miss Caty, thank you for pulling me from that fall," he said after a moment, then pushed himself off of me and onto his feet. He assisted me with standing, then held both of my hands in his. "Forgive me for falling on top of you. I fear that that part was out of my control." He waited a moment, then smiled when I began to giggle and joined me until we were both laughing.   
  
"Stand back over there, now, so I may capture your colours properly. And don't fall into the lake, Colonel! I might not catch you next time!" I said with a laugh, and he did as he was told. He remained until I had finished the painting nearly three hours, then he stood over it and admired it.   
  
"You've captured the landscape so well, the entire thing is beautiful! Except for that hideous creature there, what is that thing?" he said, referring to the image of himself. I didn't bother suppressing the giggle.   
  
"Nonsense, Colonel! The scene couldn't even compare!" I replied.   
  
"You've made me far too handsome, Miss Caty. Are you sure you're not mistaking that for me?" said the Colonel, pointing to a bird that I had painted in the sky.   
  
"No! No, of course not, Colonel, and I did not make you 'far too handsome'," I told him as I met his eyes once more. "I painted you as I saw you." He gave me a gentle smile, then glanced down at the painting in his hands.   
  
"Might I keep this? After you've signed it, of course."   
  
"I would be honoured." With a smile, I used my waning stick of black charcoal to sign 'C. Bennet' in the bottom right hand corner of the painting. He assisted me in collecting my things and walked with me to Longbourn, the two of us discussing some of our favourite paintings, portraits, types of landscapes and such. It was such a comfort to be in the Colonel's company and so refreshing. Perhaps it was because he was not either of my parents or any of my sisters but instead, someone completely new and different. It made me sad to think that, surely, he would be leaving soon.   
  
Yes, his departure was imminent and it pained me to imagine my life without the Colonel. I had gotten so used to life with him in it that one without him was quite unimaginable and I did not want to lose his company. I dreaded the day he would tell me he had overstayed his welcome. Truly, I didn't believe he ever could overstay his welcome, but I had been learning his character and I could tell he was starting to become restless. As I prepared for supper, I thought back to the note from Miss Darcy encouraging me to display my affections or at least make them more noticeable, so I sought my sketch of his face and decided to show it to him after supper.   
  
When I did, the smile on his face made him appear to be the handsomest man I had ever seen. Even any features that weren't very attractive appeared handsome and his smile made his face glow. Of every man I had ever met, the Colonel made me feel as if I had a place in the world. Any man that had shown me affection in the past had had his notice of me deflected to Lydia or Jane or Lizzy or sometimes even Mary, but the Colonel? He never looked twice at Lydia, never spoke words that suggested an admiration of Mary or Lizzy, never called Jane the most beautiful of the Bennet sisters nor suggested her to be the most beautiful girl in Hertfordshire... If we shared each other's company in a room, I would often catch him watching me, I would occasionally overhear him telling Jane kind words about me and on more than one occasion, he had called me the most beautiful girl in all of England. Nothing the Colonel did escaped my notice any longer and nothing I did escaped his, so I began to wonder if he, too, held feelings of sentimentality for me. 

* * *

_I do believe that I love the Colonel. I have harboured romantic feelings of love in the past, but surely, they were only passing passions, even the ones I harboured for young Mr. Fairfax. I say so because never before had these passions been so ignited as they are now for the Colonel. I cannot even think of him without turning pink and smiling like a foolish girl. The Colonel gives me feelings that no man had ever given me before and treats me as no man ever had before, but the question remains: does he love me as I love him?_   
  
_Yours,_   
_  
Caty Bennet_


	7. 10 - 12 May 1813 - Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Colonel writes a letter to Georgiana expressing his affections for Caty Bennet. Georgiana writes to Caty, encouraging her to show her feelings. Lydia elopes with Mr. Wickham.

_Sunday, 10 May 1813_   
  
_To my dearest cousin,_   
  
_I fear I shall be acting very out of character when I declare that I have lost my senses. Yes, truly, your stern colonel of a cousin has lost his senses and it can all be blamed on a very beautiful and elegant young woman. I believe her to be far too young for me, but I cannot contain my heart's desires, nor can I control them. My heart truly tugs me in the direction of and sings out like a siren to this beautiful young angel who reminds me much of yourself and of the young lady in your care._   
  
_However, this young lady is also nothing like yourself or the grand new addition to our family. In fact, in all of my years in society and meeting women, I have never met a woman anything like this young lady. She is poised, elegant, accomplished and everything a lady should be, but she is also strong, intelligent, bold and very, very caring. She has a fondness for laughter and an angelic outer beauty as well as an ethereal inner beauty and, dear cousin, I believe I have found the woman that I desire to marry._   
  
_I fear, however, that I cannot afford her hand. She has little to no dowry, although her dowry is not what tempts me. As the youngest son of an earl, you surely know that I am expected to make it on my own as opposed to expecting an inheritance upon my father's death. The things this young lady deserves are beyond anything I could ever afford and my pride holds me from asking for a greater inheritance than what I am to be given._   
  
_I won't put my true feelings in words, for I fear that once I cease denying them, then I shall be unable to remove myself from them. This young lady is a rare gem and something I do not believe I shall ever set my eyes on again. I have made my memories, but I cannot tie her to an ordinary life such as the one I will be living upon my father's death. Perhaps instead, I shall propose marriage to our cousin Anne and admit to myself that my feelings for this young lady are nothing more than a passing fancy, even though deep inside, I know that to be false. I shall not even disclose her name._   
  
_Do write me the current conditions of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and I do hope that, when she recovers, she and Darcy have a grand marriage. It is a shame that she took so ill so soon after marriage._   
  
_Your cousin,_   
  
_Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_

* * *

_Tuesday, 12 May 1813_   
  
_To Miss Catherine Bennet,_   
  
_I have yet to set eyes on you and you on me, but never the matter. We have corresponded only once in which you sent to your sister a sketch of my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and I returned it with a message telling you to display your affections. In light of a recent letter from my cousin, I can only assume that you have been doing just that, and for that, I thank you. Never have I received a letter from my cousin telling of such happy things and at such a length, nor have I ever been able to imagine him as happy as I did when I read his letter._   
  
_He is, however, fearful of what the future is to bring. I beg of you not to allow any apprehensions he has deter you from your friendship with him. Please, allow him his time and his space and I beg of you to allow things to take their course. Surely, you will be confused by this letter, but in due time, it shall all make sense._   
  
_I hope you and your sisters are well. Elizabeth is doing much better and she is due to leave her bedchamber and depart for a visit to Hertfordshire in a day or so, on which I am to accompany her. I hope you receive this letter before we depart, but I do have my doubts in the postal system._   
  
_Your new friend,_   
  
_Georgiana Darcy_

* * *

_Tuesday, 12 May 1813_   
  
_Dear Kitty,_   
  
_Do not be alarmed at my empty bed, for where I have gone, I shall never be unhappy. My dear Mr. Wickham begged me not to waste my time writing this letter for you, but how could I resist telling my childhood friend and sister the good news? Mr. Wickham and I are to be married! In a short time, my dearest and most precious Mr. Wickham and I will be married! That is what we have gone to do! Please be sure that Mama does not stress much, you know how poor her nerves are. Reassure her that when she next sees me, I will indeed be Mrs. George Wickham._   
  
_Your sister,_   
_  
Lydia Bennet_


	8. 12 - 21 May 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia's elopement is discovered and the Colonel comforts Caty. Elizabeth returns to Longbourn after her illness to visit her family and brings Georgiana with her and the Colonel introduces her to Caty. Georgiana and Caty discuss the Colonel and Caty admits to her feelings for him outside of her journal entries.

_Wednesday, 12 May 1813_  
  
_What a dreadful day! What an awful, dreadful day! It is a horrid curse of thirteen looming in the near future, it is, for in the middle of the night, Lydia snuck away to elope with that horribly charming Mr. Wickham! Oh, even I had to admit that he was ridiculously charming and handsome, but in order to convince even Lydia of doing something so foolish, he had to have a good deal of it. He even had Papa convinced, and Papa now feels so foolish!  What an awful day, what a truly awful day..._

* * *

I awoke the house to a piercing, blood-curdling scream that startled even the servants, and once my sisters had determined the source of my screams, they burst into my room and found me standing in the middle of the room in tears. "Dearest, what is it?" cried my eldest sister, running to me and pulling me into an embrace.  
  
"It's Lydia! It's Lydia! Oh, it's all my fault!" I cried in despair, shoving the letter into her hands and pushing past both her and Mary to exit the room. I was seeking solitude, but I didn't get far; the Colonel, still dressed in his breeches and nightshirt, stopped me and pulled me into a tight embrace. In my distress, I returned it and buried my face in his shoulder as he stroked my hair and comforted me, despite our audience.  
  
"It's all right, Miss Caty, it'll be all right," he murmured into my ear as I soaked his nightshirt with my tears. "Whatever could be the problem, dear one? What's got you so upset?"  
  
"It's Lydia! She's gone and eloped with Mr. Wickham in the middle of the night! Oh, Colonel, what do we do?" I cried as I held onto him tightly.  
  
"Shhh, Miss Caty, shouting and crying won't better the situation... I'll write to Mr. Darcy and see what he knows, surely he will be able to find them. Surely! I know my cousin, Miss Caty, and he shan't give up until they're found," he told me. "I'll go to London and find them myself."  
  
"And what would you do if you found them? He would fight you!" I cried in return, pulling my face from his shoulder.  
  
"Then it is a good thing that I am a fighting man," he replied.  
  
"Oh, Colonel, please!" I cried again, returning my face to his shoulder.  
  
"Shh... Miss Caty, I promise it will be all right. You have my word that this will be fixed." He did as he promised and wrote to Mr. Darcy and Jane wrote to Lizzy, then proceeded to assist Mama with her nerves with Mary aiding her, as Mama and her nerves could be quite a handful. Papa hid in the library, probably from shame, and the Colonel did not depart for London. Instead, he remained with me for most of the day in the drawing room, comforting me and bringing peace to my thoughts. Truly, I believed that I could never find a more soothing presence than the Colonel's, for he knew exactly what to say to make everything better.

* * *

 _Lydia was such a selfish thing, truly, and quite the hypocrite! She talked terribly of Beth, a friend of ours from Meryton who had a rumoured elopement, eloping for so long even though Beth never really eloped with Mr. Brasher at all! It was one thing for the action to be a rumour, but to be truly performed? Lydia is quite the actress for certain, as I can not find it in me to believe that Mr. Wickham can ever make her happy. She will learn from this mistake some day, but by then, it would be far too late. Thank the Lord for the Colonel's presence otherwise I might have lost my mind with anger and near hatred for Lydia. I could already picture her violet livery at the gates of heaven._  
  
_Yours,_  
  
_Caty Bennet_

* * *

 _Monday, 17 May 1813_  
  
_Lizzy has returned! After so long, Lizzy has finally returned! I never thought I would be so glad to see Lizzy return after being absent for so long! Upon seeing her earlier this afternoon, she appeared so pale and gaunt, after having been so ill for nearly a month, but the colour was slowly returning to her cheeks again. Accompanying her from Derbyshire was Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy's sister and the Colonel's cousin. I was taken aback by her elegant appearance, as she was beautiful; blonde hair, bright blue eyes, tall and poised... She had the air of a proper lady about her. I felt so intimidated, especially when the Colonel held her hand in the crook of his arm and brought her to meet me..._

* * *

Upon seeing Miss Darcy exit the carriage, I was stunned by her form. She was, perhaps, the most beautiful of girls I had ever seen. If she truly sounded as bold as her letter that I had received earlier in the week, then she was a fearsome thing to behold. I feared her judgement and as she was led into Longbourn by the Colonel, and I quickly darted into a corner of the drawing room, hoping not to be seen. I had been desperate to meet her up until the moment we shared a roof over our heads and I then turned coward. I heard the Colonel introduce her to Papa and then to Mama, but the panic in me grew as I heard him declare that he wished to introduce her to myself and my sisters.  
  
"Georgiana, these two very fine young ladies are Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Mary Bennet," I heard him say, and I could see Mary curtsy in the entrance to the drawing room.  
  
"It is a great pleasure to meet you both!" Miss Darcy exclaimed sweetly. "Elizabeth has spoken so highly of you both and I have been very eager to meet all of her sisters!"  
  
"There is still yet one sister of hers missing that I would especially like you to meet, Georgiana, but I haven't a single idea where she has gone," the Colonel said; I could hear the worry and confusion in his tone.  
  
"I believe Cathy went into the drawing room. I thought I saw her enter," said Mary, and I silently cursed her for giving away my position. At that, I rushed to the desk and scooped up my dirty handkerchief that had been blackened by charcoal and pretended to wipe my fingers clean as the Colonel led his cousin into the drawing room.  
  
"Miss Caty, there you are!" he said to me, startling me.  
  
"Forgive me, I had a bit of charcoal on my hand," I replied, although I was certain he knew it was a lie. I turned to face them with what must have been a nervous expression, for he looked into my eyes with a reassuring glance; he wanted me to trust his cousin and he believed that I could have easily.  "Georgiana, this is the very lovely Miss Catherine Bennet. Miss Caty, this is my dear cousin, Miss Georgiana Darcy."  
  
"Miss Catherine Bennet, I have been looking most forward to finally meeting you," she told me, departing her cousin's side to take my hand. "My cousin has spoken very highly of you in letters to me this past month."  
  
"Georgiana, please!" said the Colonel with a chuckle.  
  
"Oh, hush, cousin! You know you have, although how could you not? I find Miss Catherine to fit your descriptions of her," said Miss Darcy with a smile, and I blushed and glanced at the Colonel. His gaze was cast downward, but plastered onto his face was an ever-so-kindly smile.  
  
"It is a wonderful pleasure to meet you as well, Miss Darcy," I replied with a smile, squeezing her hand in return.  
  
"I do believe that we will be the best of friends, for I feel we have so much in common!" And that we did, as I had learned when Miss Darcy and I sat in the drawing room and discussed ourselves. I found her to have been struggling to find herself as well and she informed me that her struggle had been just as difficult as mine. Poor Miss Darcy, however, had found it even more difficult to find herself with her brother always performing house duties and maintaining Pemberley and herself not having a single sister in the world to confide in. "However, I have found that I possess quite a passion for music and I love spending hours at the pianoforte playing," she confessed, and I then told her about my newfound passion for drawing. She had sounded lonely, or at least had been before Lizzy had arrived in Derbyshire. I had vowed then and there to do my best to be her friend and her confidant, and she agreed to be mine as well.

* * *

 _We talked all throughout the day and well into supper, then I found her sitting for a sketch and myself sketching her. She was a beautiful subject, truly, and having her sit for a sketch from me was quite an honour. At various moments throughout the night, I would catch the Colonel watching me with admiration flashing in his eyes, and I continued to wonder if perhaps he loved me as I did him, a thought that crossed my mind so often these days. The way Miss Darcy whispered of him pushed me to believe in his affections even more._  
  
_Yours,_  
  
_Caty Bennet_

* * *

 _Friday, 21 May 1813_  
  
_I must ask, when did I start signing my name as Caty Bennet in my journal? I do not recall making the change, but I do enjoy seeing my name as something other than 'Kitty'. Anyhow, four days have passed since Lizzy arrived and Miss Darcy and I have been becoming closer friends with each passing day. She confides in me with her thoughts and I do the same, but she never approaches the subject of the Colonel with me. At least, she hadn't until today..._

* * *

Earlier in the afternoon, Miss Darcy and I were seated alone in the parlour while Mary entertained Jane, Mama, Lizzy, the Colonel and Mr. Casey on the pianoforte. Only the day before, Mary had received a proposal from Mr. Casey, as she had been terribly worried that he had been chased away by Lydia's actions and he wanted to show her that he truly did love her despite Lydia's embarrassment. It made her perhaps the happiest that I had ever seen her and ever since, she walked around our home as if on air. As she entertained in the drawing room, Miss Darcy and I took tea in the parlour and discussed various topics of interest, I not even realizing she was diverting the conversation to the Colonel until it had already happened.  
  
"So your sister enjoys the company of soldiers? Forgive me for bringing it up if it is a sensitive topic," she said to me after I had spoken of how Lydia and I used to be silly fools over redcoats. She knew already of whom it was that had eloped with Lydia, but at the time, I had not known her history with the wretched Mr. Wickham.  
  
"No, it's quite all right and yes, she always has. When I was a bit younger, I would chase after them myself, but truly, I don't believe I ever held much of an interest for them to the same degree as Lydia," I replied as I took a sip from my tea.  
  
"What of my cousin then? He is a soldier, although no longer in active service," said Miss Darcy, and I nearly choked on my tea.  
  
"The Colonel? Goodness, how could you think even for a second that I meant him when I declared that soldiers never held much of an interest for me? The Colonel is completely different from those other men. He's truly kind and not bigoted in any way, that I've noticed, he doesn't fall in love with the first girl to be kind to him or show him attention... Truly, I could never mean him when I declare that soldiers never interested me, Miss Darcy," I replied as I stirred another cube of sugar into my tea.  
  
"So you admire him?" I paused for a moment, then glanced at a decorative plate on the wall of the parlour.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I do. In a friendly way, I believe. What isn't there to admire about a truly kind heart?" I replied after that moment.  
  
"He's always been so kind and thoughtful. Most women I've seen him around never paid him much heed. I believe you are the first to look past his physical features and notice his true kindness. You don't adore him for his title, you adore him for his kind heart."  
  
"Now, 'adore' might not be the right word..."  
  
"Many feelings we possess for others go unspoken or misnamed."  
  
I paused, then said, "Yes, I suppose they do."  
  
"But they don't have to." I glanced up at her from my teacup. "If you truly care for someone, then your feelings for them should never go unspoken, Miss Catherine. Do forgive me for being so bold, but I fear no one else shall encourage you to show him your affections as I am now."  
  
"The Colonel is so much older than I... My younger sister, Lydia, called him old and hideous and referred to him as a spinster's prize."  
  
"And what good has Miss Lydia's opinions ever done for you? Have you not seen what she's done to you and your family by running away with that... That... Oh, proper words do not exist to describe that slug, but never mind him. Miss Lydia's opinions should never dictate yours, Miss Catherine. The Colonel is four years my brother's senior, putting him at about one and thirty."  
  
"Then I believe that makes me about fourteen years his junior."  
  
"You're a quick thing. My cousin said that about you in his letters, that you were not only beautiful and elegant, but intelligent as well." At that, I blushed lightly. "Your flushing cheeks tell of stronger feelings than admiration or adoration. Tell me, Miss Catherine, how does my cousin make you feel?" I paused again for a moment, thinking back to all of the hours I had spent awake at night thinking of the Colonel.  
  
"He makes me feel as if I am standing at the very top of the world," I replied. "He has shown me that there are not four Bennet sisters, but five, and that even I have characteristics that distinguish me from my sisters. He has encouraged my drawing, read to me, played chess with me, improved my mind with me, has accompanied me on walks, has allowed me to use him as a subject for my sketches... Truly, I don't know what the Colonel hasn't done for me." I glanced at Miss Darcy, trying to suggest that I was finished, but the expression she gave me in return told me that she knew I had one final thought. "...and due to all of that, I do declare that I have fallen utterly in love with him. I love him like I have loved no other and I do not believe that I shall ever love another as I love him."  
  
"Shall I encourage his affections?"  
  
"Are you certain of his affections?"  
  
"After the most recent letter I had received from him before coming here with Elizabeth? Yes, I am quite certain of his affections. He will not name them, but he is aware that they are there."  
  
"I feel like such a frivolous thing, talking of the Colonel while he is absent from the room, and especially with you!" The two of us giggled lightly together, but the sound of a man's voice made us both jump and I spilled my tea all over the front of my dress.  
  
"And what, Miss Caty, has my dear cousin told you of me?" said the Colonel from the entrance to the parlour. "Forgive me, ladies, for startling you so but I heard my name and thought I was being summoned."  
  
"Oh, cousin, you sneaky thing," said Miss Darcy with a smile and a giggle; I sat there very red in the face and not even looking in his direction, utterly humiliated at having been caught discussing him. How much of the conversation had he heard?

* * *

 _To hear the words come from Miss Darcy's mouth that she believed her cousin to hold affections for me gave me so much hope. If he truly does care for me, but for some unknown cause does not want to say it, then perhaps I have a chance of becoming his wife. If his age is the only thing standing in the way of that, then I will do whatever I can to remove that obstacle. Perhaps, if my guess is correct, such an action would make us both happy._  
  
_Yours,_  
_  
Caty Bennet_


	9. 26 - 29 May 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Colonel seeks a private conversation with Caty and they two confess their love for each other in a series of figurative language, talking themselves down and complimenting each other. The Colonel then offers her a proposal of marriage unintentionally laced with insult and Caty is furious and heartbroken. Caty is revolted by the pentane the Colonel gave her and begins to refer to herself as Catherine.

_Wednesday, 26 May 1813_  
  
_Truly, this day could not have been any worse! What a horrible, horrible day, really. I can barely fathom the horror that I am feeling at today’s events. Seeing as I have not written in this journal since Friday, I shall say that news of Lydia has finally come and she is to be shortly married to that wretched Mr. Wickham and hopefully will be carried away to some place where we shall never see her again. Oh truly, I am very bitter today. Allow me to relate the events that made this day so terrible..._

* * *

It didn't start out terrible. In the morning, I awoke with the sun and found a ray of sunshine nearly blinding me. I dressed, shared a breakfast with Mama, Papa, Jane, Lizzy and Miss Darcy and then went to town with Mama and Mary to look at wedding gowns. Truly, I had no interest, but every so often, Mama would stop at a pattern and say to me, “Oh, this one would look so beautiful on you, Kitty, dear.” I was quite unsure what she was hinting at, but I only nodded in agreement and reminded her that we were searching for patterns for Mary.  
  
Upon returning in the early afternoon, Miss Darcy pulled me into the parlour, much to my surprise. “Miss Darcy,” I said, startled by her sudden abruptness. “Whatever could it be? Are you all right?”  
  
“My cousin, the Colonel, wishes to accompany you on a walk,” she told me.  
  
“A walk? Whatever for?” I asked, quite confused. Surely, by this point, it would not be proper for the Colonel and I to take a private walk alone, so surely we would have to have a chaperone. What could the Colonel possibly want to tell me in the company of a chaperone... I started to get excited, then asked if perhaps she would chaperone us herself.  
  
“I'm afraid I don't quite know the land as well as you or your sisters, Miss Catherine. I believe Elizabeth will be accompanying you both,” she replied. I let out a sigh; Lizzy wouldn't allow us our private conversations. I had not conversed with her much since she arrived, but I was certain she still thought me a silly, foolish flirty thing and would not trust me alone with the Colonel. Whatever the Colonel had to say would now have to wait, if Lizzy would be chaperoning us.  
  
The three of us set out for our walk, Lizzy trailing behind and I on the arm of the Colonel. We walked in silence for quite a while, listening only to the birds chirping or the sound of our footsteps on the dirt. We were out of Longbourn’s view when the Colonel muttered to me, “Miss Caty, I have something very important that I need to discuss with you.” I glanced up at him, starting to wonder what it could possibly be; a part of me already knew.  
  
"If it is private, I'm sure we could go into the parlour back at home-"  
  
"Miss Caty, your sister is nowhere near earshot." I glanced over my shoulder, finding Lizzy to have fallen so far behind us; I understood then why Miss Darcy said she didn't know the land. I faced forward again and I heard him clear his throat. "Miss Caty... I have been here for quite some time and with Mrs. Darcy here, I feel that my presence here is nothing more than a nuisance."  
  
"Oh, Colonel, that isn't true!" I cried, now terrified of him leaving.  
  
"It must be. I must tell you that the only reason I have overstayed my welcome is you." I stopped and glanced up at him, and he, too, stopped and turned to face me.  
  
"Me? Whatever for?" He smiled and chuckled lightly, then took my hands into his.  
  
"Miss Caty, you are poised and elegant, bold and brilliant, but you still have a bit of that youthful naivety about you. My dear Miss Catherine Bennet, how could you not see? All of these weeks, I have found myself drawn to your side despite being snubbed, and had no desire to leave. Miss Caty, I do hope you realise what it is I am saying." Of course I did. Even I wasn't foolish enough to see that he was starting to declare his feelings for me. I could have toyed with him, if I desired, but I felt that that was something Lydia would do, and I most certainly wasn't Lydia.  
  
"I... I have an idea..." I replied quietly. "What of Lizzy? She is watching us, is she not?"  
  
"Miss Caty, I do not believe that Mrs. Darcy is paying us any heed."  
  
"Then she is quite a terrible chaperone, is she not?" The Colonel chuckled.  
  
"Perhaps so, but terrible chaperones lead to grand moments." He smiled at me as he raised my hands to his lips and kissed them. "What are your thoughts, then, Miss Caty?"  
  
"My thoughts? On what? Forgive me, but you've hardly said anything, Colonel. Only that you have found yourself unable to leave my company."  
  
"And what are your thoughts on that?"  
  
"I believe you to be mad. How could you even want to be in the company of such a foolish and silly thing like me?"  
  
"I couldn't, that is why I spent no time with your youngest sister. I spent as much time as I could with you because your mind and your words are refreshing. They are new and interesting to me. Undiscovered minds such as your own are always suppressed in poor matches and I don't wish to see that happen to you."  
  
"Colonel, you are making me blush." At this, I was smiling and watching our hands; he began to stroke the back of my hand with his thumb.  
  
"Yes, I do believe I am, and it only pushes me forward. Miss Caty, I am a sensible man. I know my age and I know yours, and if it is not obvious enough, you are much younger than I. I wasn't sure if you were uncomfortable with my actions due to my age..."  
  
"Age is but a number, is it not? It only tells of how many years you have lived on this earth and it does nothing more. Age is not a barrier for kindness or thoughtfulness or happiness or..."  
  
"Or?"  
  
"Anything. Age is not a barrier for anything. All it tells is how long you have lived and nothing more."  
  
"Well, your opinion on the subject certainly makes me feel more comfortable, and so I press onward. While I have been here, you have been on a journey of self-discovery. I have done all I could to assist you in learning more about yourself. I dare say that I believe I have observed you enough to know more about you than even you, my dear - my _annwyl hardd_ . I admire you greatly, Miss Caty, for who you are and whom you have become. I admire your spirit, your personality, your many skills and your beauty. You are, for me, the discovery of the century and shall go down in my memory as a treasure."  
  
"Colonel, your words are so kind, but I fear you are wrong. If that is what you believe me to be, then you don't quite know me as well as you believe."  
  
"Miss Caty, you have never seen your own face. You have seen images of it in a mirror or in still water or a portrait. You have seen a reflection of what you are, not what you truly are. A personality is no different. People cannot judge themselves for they know not what what they even look like. How you perceive yourself is not what you are, but if you ask anyone outside of your body, they will tell you that they see an angelic woman with a soul as beautiful as her appearance. That, Miss Caty, is how I perceive you." At this, I was silenced. I had never before thought that, perhaps, I did see my face differently than others, and if I could perceive my face differently, then surely, my personality could be viewed the same. I had never thought the Colonel a romantic man, nor did he believe himself to be, but he certainly knew how to compliment a woman.  
  
"Sir, your words are beautiful. You have a true talent for charming a lady and I haven't the slightest idea why you are not married nor why you are not chasing after a more elegant lady." He smiled and chuckled lightly.  
  
"I am not a charming man, for I have no way with words, but to avoid you using my own words against me, I shall declare that I am charming the most elegant lady I have ever had the pleasure of meeting."  
  
"They've all called me silly, but I believe the silly one is you, Colonel." We shared a light chuckle before I continued. "I must declare that I, too, have found myself almost unwilling to leave your company. Parting at night has become something I dread and parting in general, too. And when we have parted, I look forward to the moment that we are to meet again, even though you are across the corridor from me. And I have found you to be the most charming man that I have ever met. I would be lying if I called you the handsomest man I had ever met, but outward appearances mean nothing when it comes to happiness. Most handsome men are more gilded than gold; they have wretched personalities, while sometimes, the less handsome men have golden interiors despite their stained appearances. To deserve the word 'handsome', I believe a man must have a golden interior, and seeing as how your golden interior glitters brighter than any I had ever seen, I guess I wouldn't be lying when I call you the most handsome man I have ever met."  
  
"Oh, Miss Caty... I have one final word before I say what has been on my mind for so long." He paused for a moment, gripping my hands tightly and scrunching up his face in thought. "I am uncertain if I told you, but I am the son of an earl. The Earl of Matlock, to be exact, and I have an elder brother, Timothy, who will be inheriting the title. I have lived a lavish life in my thirty years... Your family, I realize, has not quite lived so lavishly, and such a transition would be no trouble for you, but me? I cannot afford to marry you, but I have looked past my better judgement and would like to ask for your hand." As he spoke, I had lost my smile. My flushing cheeks were back to pale and my eyes wide; my mouth had fallen slightly open, as I was completely dumbfounded. Did my ears deceive me? Could the Colonel - my sweet, kind, caring and incredible Colonel - have truly said such a horrible thing? "Miss Caty?"  
  
"Forgive me, but could you repeat that last part?" I asked, barely able to hide the betrayal in my tone.  
  
"I have looked past my better judgement in not being able to afford to marry you and am asking for your hand. Miss Caty, are you all right?"  
  
"Your better judgement?" I pulled my hands from his, then stepped away from him.  
  
"Miss Caty!"  
  
"Don't 'Miss Caty' me, not right now. Your better judgement? In what?"  
  
"Well, I did say that I cannot quite afford to marry you-"  
  
"Is that all your better judgement has to say? It's because I'm socially and financially beneath you, isn't it? I can't provide you with the ability to continue your lavish life, am I correct?"  
  
"Miss Caty, is isn't like that at all-"  
  
"You are declaring that you seek my hand in marriage against your better judgement, which tells me that I am too poor to marry you." I paused and read the hurt and distress in his eyes, but I was not falling for any masks. "Can you not see the insult in that? Your better judgement has spoken for you, and I must ask that you leave me alone." With my final words to him spoken, I turned on my heel and started walking away, leaving him standing there on the path behind me.  
  
"Miss Caty!"  
  
"Your better judgement should also force you to realise that I am far beneath you in status, Colonel, and that speaking to me degrades you." I turned to face him from several metres away. "And I ask that you never call me that again. Good afternoon, Colonel." I turned again and left him there. Lizzy, when she saw me pass her at a quickened pace, ran after me.  
  
"Kitty! Kitty, is something the matter?" she called, but I ignored her and carried on.  "Kitty!"  
  
"Oh, for once in your life, can't any of you leave me alone?" I cried, then started running towards Longbourn, only to lock myself in my room for the rest of the evening. I wouldn't even take supper from Jane when she brought it to my door.

* * *

 _I thought I knew the Colonel, but it seems that I don't know him at all, and perhaps never did. How could I have possibly believed even for a moment that of all people, a gentleman and the son of an earl who had to marry wealthy to support himself, would ever truly want me? I should have known, really. I recall thinking Mr. Darcy was a bit of the snobby type who thought himself above us all, so why should the Colonel have been any different? They are related, after all, and so similar in manner. I feel more hurt than I ever thought I could be. It seems that I am no less silly than I was before he arrived and before I stopped trying to be like Lydia._  
  
_Yours,_  
  
_Catherine Bennet._

* * *

 _Saturday, 29 May 1813_  
  
_The Colonel has left. I heard him tell my sister that he has distressed me enough, as I have barely emerged from my room in the last three days, and declared that he must leave our home in order to give me the freedom to roam it again. This morning, I heard him declare that he would be departing today, and in a moment of passion, I rushed down the stairs later in the afternoon to seek him out and at least say goodbye to him, but I was informed that he had already gone. I am no longer sure if I am hurt by his betrayal to my trust or by my own foolishness._  
  
_In other news, Lydia has returned. Upon seeing me, she asked what I had done to chase the poor Colonel away. I do believe that even Jane hesitated in pulling me off of that fool when I threw myself at her._  
  
_Yours,_  
_  
Catherine Bennet_


	10. 2 June 1813 - The Colonel's Journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Colonel writes an entry in his own journal reflecting on his choice of words when proposing to Catherine. He insults himself and mentions an illness that his brother, the viscount and heir to the Matlock estate, has acquired.

_Wednesday, 2 June 1813_   
  
_To myself,_   
  
_I have never truly kept a journal in the past, or at least kept up with one. This little book is near its end and features entries from my days in the army going back at least ten years. My last entry dates to August of 1809 and tells of a stormy night on a ship that rocked me into illness. The only reason I am writing this now is to express my thoughts and perhaps clear my head of most of my guilt, as I have no one to confide in now. I do doubt that it will work._   
  
_I was a fool to say what I did. Against my better judgement? When did I become the kind of man to say such a thing? I was raised a gentleman, not a snobbish fool who believed myself higher than anyone who did not share in my lavish upbringing, and yet I proved myself to be just the git to do that. Stupid, foolish me! I have made the only woman who would ever love me, who could ever make me happy, detest the very thought of me. I have insulted the kindest woman who spoke so freely and so openly with me and I have pushed her to such distress that she could not leave her room so long as I was sharing a roof with her. Even Darcy said to me, "Richard, this is not like you. You cannot have so mismanaged it. To insult a woman and expect her to marry you?"_   
  
_I feel like such a fool. I am a blithering, bumbling, idiot of a fool. I am a numpty, a cream-faced loon, a bobelyne and any other word that can be used for 'fool'. I have chased away the only woman who ever bothered to give me a second thought or a second look and ever dared to possibly love me. Did she love me? Perhaps I will never know, but of all the ladies I had ever been in the company of, Miss Catherine Bennet was the only likely candidate to love me. I suppose she, too, was a fool for bothering with me, but I suppose love makes fools out of all of us. Love did not make a fool out of me, for I do that perfectly well on my own, but Miss Caty? My dearest, lovely Caty Bennet... I had plans of marrying her, of cherishing her, of giving her beautiful children to look after - I don't know how I expected that last part to work, unless the children all looked like her. My beautiful Caty... How you must hate me so!_   
  
_Against my better judgement... I shall never forget those words. They will haunt me for the rest of my life and probably hers as well. I can only imagine how horrible she must have felt when she heard those words and coming from me! I had worked so hard to gain her trust, to gain a smile and a blush whenever she caught my eye, to gain her permission to have me accompany her on walks or sit for her sketches, but a handful of foolish words destroyed all that I had built up. Will I ever be forgiven? Could she ever forgive me? Could I ever forgive myself?_   
  
_In other news, my brother is ill. I do not know the details, nor do I know how long his illness has lasted, for I received a letter here in London dated to the 17th of May and it is now the second day of June. I know not what remains of his illness, nor how he fares, so I will rest another day and tomorrow, return to my family's Matlock estate to be there for him if I am needed. My brother and I grew up rather close and if he is to die, I shall be distressed even further. Inheritance or not, he is my brother and he is not disposable property to me. I pray to the Lord that I will not be too late in my arrival._   
  
_Signed,_   
_  
Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_


	11. 5 - 8 October 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine visits Pemberley to assist Elizabeth with a ball at the end of October and to escape Longbourn. Three days into her visit, the Colonel arrives with his mother, Lady Matlock, and sister-in-law, Mrs. Madge Fitzwilliam, both of whom are mourning the loss of the Colonel's older brother, the former viscount, Timothy Fitzwilliam.

_Tuesday, 5 October 1813_   
  
_It certainly has been quite a long while since I have written in this little book. I haven't had a reason to, really, as nothing interesting has happened to me in the last few months. I've been lonely, I suppose, especially since Jane married Mr. Bingley at the end of July and Mary married Mr. Casey in August. With Jane off with Mr. Bingley, Mary off with Mr. Casey, Lydia off with Mr. Wickham and Lizzy off with Mr. Darcy, I have found myself quite alone here at Longbourn with Mama and Papa. I do believe that they are beginning to tire of my presence. Oh, if I had just accepted the Colonel's proposal despite his insult towards me, they would not have to deal with me._   
  
_To give Mama and Papa some peace, I have decided to travel to Pemberley to stay with Lizzy and Mr. Darcy for a short while as their guest. They will be hosting some sort of ball that I will assist Lizzy with in the coming weeks. Perhaps Lizzy and Miss Darcy will be able to help me clear my thoughts._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

_Friday, 8 October 1813_   
  
_I've been here three days and I have found that coming here was a foolish mistake on my part. I should have known that I would not be at peace in the home that Mr. Darcy and his family had lived in for so long. How could I have been so stupid? Of course, it is much too late now, so I shall have to muddle through. Allow me to relate the events of the day..._

* * *

I had awoken in a grand four-poster bed to a ray of sunshine in my eyes, gotten dressed then descended the stairs to meet my sister and Miss Darcy for breakfast and I had thought that it would just be the three of us, but upon entering the dining room, I met two figures I had never before seen. Both were women, one older and one middle-aged, who were clad in black and sitting closest to Miss Darcy. They both looked at me upon my entrance and stared at me as I did them, probably as confused as I was. "Kitty! Good morning, I thought you would have been up earlier," Lizzy said as she set down her cup of tea with a slightly disapproving tone. Lizzy, at the time, was with child only a couple of months and was lightly showing, but only barely; if one did not know, they would never have been able to tell. I had noticed, too, that ever since she was married, she became more strict and proper, probably due to the lavish life she lived; it was irritating in the slightest, but I brushed it off.  
  
"Forgive me, I was up a bit late last night reading," I replied. All were silent for a moment before Lizzy spoke again.   
  
"Oh, forgive my rudeness. Kitty, we have two guests joining us for a short while, although they will not be making an appearance at the ball," she said. "This is Lady Matlock, wife of Lord Matlock." She referred to the elder woman, who smiled warmly at me from her seat at the table. Matlock? Why was that name familiar? Surely, I had heard it somewhere, mentioned perhaps only once... "And this is Mrs. Timothy Fitzwilliam."   
  
"Oh, please, call me Madge," said the younger woman, standing and approaching me. My eyes, at this point, were widened, as I had discovered exactly where I had heard the name ‘Matlock’ as soon as Lizzy revealed the name of the middle-aged woman. "You must be Miss Catherine Bennet. Oh, my dear brother has told me so much of you." I stood there staring, still in shock at who was standing before me. Mrs. Fitzwilliam was not quite middle-aged, but she could be no younger than thirty-five. She had sandy blonde hair beneath her black mourning cap and wore a very elegant and stylish black mourning dress; she must have recently been widowed.   
  
"Kitty, don't be rude," Lizzy said after a moment, and I shook my head lightly.   
  
"Forgive me, I fear I have a bit of a headache," I replied. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, and you as well, Lady Matlock."   
  
"Please, Mrs. Fitzwilliam is so formal. With the way my brother spoke of you, I feel as though we are sisters. You may call me Madge, if you will," replied Mrs. Fitzwilliam.   
  
"Madge? Is it short for 'Madgelena'?" I asked, and she nodded with a gentle smile.   
  
"Why, yes, it is," she said.   
  
"Madgelena is one of the names I was given," I told her.   
  
"Oh, do join my dear mother and I!" she said with her kind smile, then took my arm and led me to an empty seat between herself and her mother.   
  
"I am terribly sorry for your loss," I told her as we walked. "Might I ask who it was?" As we sat, she let out a sad sigh.   
  
"My husband. He passed a few months back, in August, of a fever," said Mrs. Fitzwilliam.   
  
"I'm terribly sorry to hear," I replied, then turned to Lady Matlock. "And he was your son?"   
  
"He was. My eldest," she said. "He was to inherit my husband's estate and title upon his death, but it will now pass to my younger son."   
  
"You've two?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.   
  
"He has been a Colonel in the militia for quite some time, although has not been in active duty for a number of years. I have a daughter as well, but she is married and doing well far from here," replied Lady Matlock. I had never recalled hearing the Colonel mention any members of his family besides his brother once; I hadn't the slightest idea his parents were still alive or that he had a sister that was not his brother's wife.   
  
"Is he here with you?" I asked.   
  
"My son? Yes, he did accompany myself and Madge, Miss Bennet," Lady Matlock said to me.   
  
"The Colonel is off with my husband on an errand. They left early this morning and are not expected to return until later," Lizzy broke in, and I nodded.   
  
"Lizzy, might I speak to you a moment?" I asked, my tone of voice suggesting I was the slightest bit irritated and suspicious of a setup. Lizzy stood and I followed her out of the dining room, stopping her a good ways down the corridor. "Did you plan this?"   
  
"Plan what, Kitty?" asked Lizzy, a bit confused.   
  
"Oh, for god's sake, Lizzy, don't ever call me that again. Catherine will do just fine. And you know what I mean. The Colonel coming here. You knew of our brief courtship at Longbourn," I told her.   
  
"Kitty, I... Catherine... I knew very little of the Colonel's brief courtship of you. He is my husband's cousin and his family has attended the ball for many years before Mr. Darcy and I were married. It is an annual ball that has not been held in years because there has been no lady to run the house," Lizzy replied.   
  
"Very little, I'm sure of it. Why did you invite me to stay, then?"   
  
"You had complained in letters of Mama and Papa irritating you on numerous occasions and worried that you irritated them, so I asked you to come and stay. The timing was not my fault and the Colonel has been here on numerous occasions since Mr. Darcy and I departed Hertfordshire."   
  
"They sound as if they are expecting me to marry their brother and son! Do they not know of what happened between the Colonel and I? Of his rather insulting proposal?"   
  
"I assume not. I am certain that the Colonel would not have related his blunder to anyone, only to Mr. Darcy, as far as I know, and you have related it to me." I let out a heavy sigh and placed my hand on my forehead.   
  
"Does he know I am here?" Lizzy nodded. "You told him?"   
  
"Georgiana did, as soon as he arrived."   
  
"Of course she did. She was so eager to encourage the Colonel's affections towards me. She cannot act as a matchmaker when he has insulted me and I know she will try."   
  
"Then tell her! You cannot expect anyone here not to know of your issues if you do not inform them. Now if you'll excuse me, I have guests to tend to." She turned on her heel and strode back into the dining room, leaving me standing there in the corridor. I leaned against the wall fighting back tears, praying that 'later' meant well after I had turned in for the night, and if it were sooner, I planned to feign a headache to escape.   
  
We weren't informed when Mr. Darcy and the Colonel returned. We were all sitting in the parlour, Miss Darcy at the pianoforte, Mrs. Fitzwilliam and Lady Matlock sitting on a settee, Lizzy sitting in a chair talking with them and I standing in a corner near a bookshelf scanning the titles, when the two gentlemen were announced. Upon their announcement, they entered, both of them highly dressed and poised as ever. Lizzy stood to greet her husband, accepting a brief kiss on her cheek from him as his greeting.   
  
"Good afternoon, my husband," she said as she took his hands and accepted his kiss.   
  
"Good afternoon, my dear Mrs. Darcy. How has your day been?" Mr. Darcy asked kindly in return.   
  
"Surprisingly calm. I have not been asked to look over anything, so I have been in here with everyone since breakfast. Lady Matlock and Mrs. Fitzwilliam have been speaking with me, Georgiana has been on the pianoforte and Catherine has been scanning the bookshelves for hours, it seems," Lizzy replied. I could not see the Colonel very well from where I stood, as his back was to me, but I could see him shift ever so slightly in discomfort at the mention of my name.   
  
"Ah, yes," said Mr. Darcy, and he left Lizzy to approach Lady Matlock and Mrs. Fitzwilliam. "And how are you ladies this afternoon? Lady Matlock?"   
  
"Very well, Fitzwilliam," said Lady Matlock with a gentle smile.   
  
"And you, Madge?" Mrs. Fitzwilliam stood to greet Mr. Darcy.   
  
"Very well, dear cousin," she replied kindly. "I must say, I am very fond of your wife and her sister. Both are such kind and elegant ladies!"   
  
"How very kind of you, Madge," said Lizzy. "Catherine, did you hear Madge's kind compliment of you?" As the greetings were made, I had picked up a book and pretended to bury myself in it, but upon being called, I closed it loudly and turned to face the crowd that now had its attention trained on me.   
  
"Forgive me, I cannot hear well over the sound of Miss Darcy's beautiful playing," I replied.   
  
"Oh, but I've stopped playing, Catherine," said Miss Darcy, and I closed my eyes and let out a light sigh, not having even noticed the silence.   
  
"Forgive me, then I have poor hearing," I said after a moment. "I have a bit of a headache. I am afraid that I shall have to excuse myself." With the book in my hand, I began to cross the room towards the exit.   
  
"Catherine, aren't you going to greet the Colonel?" Lizzy asked me as I approached.   
  
"Good afternoon, Colonel," I said as I passed the group, and I then exited the parlour and began to climb the stairs. I was a short ways up the staircase when the sound of the Colonel's voice stopped me.   
  
"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet," he had said calmly. "It is very nice to see you again." I turned on the staircase to look down upon him at the foot of the steps, having followed me out of the parlour.   
  
"And you, Colonel. Forgive me for my elusive behavior, but I have had a dull headache all morning and it is only getting worse," I replied.   
  
"Yes, of course. You must get your rest," he said to me, and I nodded gently. He sounded very sincere and, dare I say it, still in love with me. A moment passed before either of us did or said anything, so I turned on my heel and continued up the staircase silently. I did not leave my bedchamber all night and took my supper there in fear of having to make conversation with the Colonel. Later in the evening, Lizzy knocked on my door and called for me, but I gave her no response. I listened to her light footsteps as she walked down the corridor. 

* * *

_I truly should have expected the Colonel to appear at Pemberley and I was very foolish to not believe that he would. He and Mr. Darcy are close cousins and the Colonel has as much of a right to be here as I do, perhaps even more. I do not know how long he will be staying, although with his brother's widowed wife and his mother here with him, it will probably be quite some time. Will I never receive peace?_   
  
_Yours,_   
_  
Catherine Bennet _


	12. 9 - 14 October 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine develops a small head cold and remains in her bedchamber, being tended to by Elizabeth, Georgiana and Madge. Madge tends to her one day and she discusses her past and the Colonel's family with Catherine, making her uncomfortable the moment she mentions a courtship between Catherine and the Colonel. Catherine now refers to Georgiana by her Christian name.

_Saturday, 9 October 1813_   
  
_Dear Diary,_   
  
_It is now late at night and I have not left my bed, as I had awoken with a sore throat, a headache, a cough and a sniffle. Perhaps I did play into it a bit, as it was an excuse to stay out of the Colonel's eye, and I am certain that Lizzy knows this. She has said nothing, however; perhaps she does understand my feelings on the situation. I have not spoken with her in detail of it, but she did not agree with what the Colonel had said and did not blame me for my distress. However, she does believe that I should still be a civil lady to him, or that I should move past it and accept the Colonel's apology, something I was sure would have taken her months had it been her. I ought to sleep now, as I truly do not feel well._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

_Monday, 11 October 1813_   
  
_Dear Diary,_   
  
_I have been ill three days now and still no better, so to busy herself, Mrs. Fitzwilliam has been tending to me. She said to me the second time she entered with broth that my sister was very busy with both her house duties and preparations for the ball, so she felt obligated to assist me. I did ask her why Miss Darcy couldn't tend to me and for a brief moment, she appeared harmed by my words, but then told me that she truly 'wanted to sit with me and get to know the girl her brother told her so much about'; I apologised._   
  
_Earlier today, she entered with broth and a cool towel to lower my temperature and once I had been tended to, she sat on the edge of my bed and started to speak..._

* * *

"I know I said yesterday that I wanted to learn more about you, but I have not been following through with it. So for a short time, I shall keep you company until you tire of me, dear," she told me kindly with a hand on my wrist.  
  
"Mrs. Fitzwilliam, you truly don't-"   
  
"Call me Madge, dear one. I feel close enough to you that I don't quite feel comfortable with hearing you refer to me as Mrs. Fitzwilliam," she said, looking at me as if both she and I could be referred to as Mrs. Fitzwilliam.   
  
"But we've only just met a few days ago," I replied resiliently.   
  
"I know, dear... I know you so well through my brother. He is an excellent judge of character and has told me so much of you these past few months. He has been excellent company since my husband passed..."   
  
"The viscount?" She nodded. "He was to inherit your family's estate, yes?" Again, she nodded. "And now the Colonel is to inherit? What about your children?" She let out a quiet sigh and looked towards the floor, a distant look in her eye.   
  
"I have been with child many times, some ending successfully, others not. I carried eleven children, lost four before they were born, lost four in infancy, lost two in childhood and the third died in childbirth."   
  
"I am so terribly sorry, dear! I shouldn't have brought it up," I cried, sitting up.   
  
"Oh, please, Catherine, darling, don't rise..." She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down against the bed. She was silent for a moment longer. "I knew not the sexes of the four children I had lost before birth, but the other seven all had names. Beth was my first, and she was born still. I had eighteen years when she had been born and died. The second was Anne and she lived to see nineteen, but she has died only last year delivering her first child. The third was Timothy and he lived a few weeks before succumbing to a fever. The fourth was also Timothy, much against my will; my husband wanted a son named after him and I had insisted on giving him another name, but he refused. He lived to be seven before he died of the consumption. The fifth was Edward and he, too, died of the consumption at the age of five. The sixth was Rachel, who died of a fever in infancy, and the last was Elizabeth; she, too, succumbed to a fever."   
  
"If it is hard to say, then you do not have to tell me." I could see the tears in her eyes well up the more she talked of her children.   
  
"I'll be all right, dear. That is kind of you to think of me. I loved each of my children terribly and I wish I could have only given my husband an heir. I am seven and thirty years, so it has been very difficult to give him one since the last, which I had lost before birth only three years ago. My brother feels terribly guilty even though it is not his fault my husband has died. There was nothing he could have done to prevent it, if it was God's will." I lay on that lavishly padded bed silently, allowing her to speak; she was silent for several moments.   
  
"He had a sister as well, your husband. And the Colonel, too, of course."   
  
"Yes, a younger one; her name is Lucy. She is a very kind and beautiful woman and very dear to the Colonel's heart, but they do not see each other often. I do believe it has been a number of years since he had seen her last, but they correspond as often as the distance between them allows."   
  
"Where could she be that is so far, they cannot see each other?"   
  
"She married a soldier and he the militia brought him to Canada, so she lives with him. I've only met her a few times before and she is a very kind woman. Perhaps with the war that we are fighting with the Colonies - alas, former Colonies - again, she will come home to England. Canada is not a safe place for a kind woman like her."   
  
"Oh... That is certainly terrible." She nodded slightly.   
  
"I believe you and my brother had the likes of a courtship?" I looked up at her, my eyes slightly widened with interest. "I take that as a yes. He told me it ended because something had gone wrong on his part, but he neglected to tell me. I know it is none of my business, but I do hope that whatever it was did not cause you much harm."   
  
"Mrs. Fitzwilliam, I fear I am quite tired. I think I would like to rest."   
  
"Yes, of course. Forgive me, Catherine... I shall bring you more broth and another towel later." She stood and exited the room with the empty bowl of broth in hand. 

* * *

_I understand that Mrs. Fitzwilliam is grieving the loss of her husband, but I fear she is overstepping her boundaries by being so open with the likes of me. Yes, my sister did marry Mr. Darcy, but I am still the daughter of a poor gentleman. And prying on my business with the Colonel was overstepping my boundaries. She is very kind indeed, but I do believe her to be a bit bitter. Perhaps I would be, too, if I had conceived and lost eleven children all under the age of twenty._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

_Thursday, 14 October 1813_   
  
_Dear Diary,_   
  
_It is morning and I am feeling much better now. Mrs. Fitzwilliam, after sensing my discomfort, has stopped tending to me and Miss Darcy has taken her place. Miss Darcy had ever so kindly tended to Lizzy when she was ill and I am certain gave her strength. I feel myself getting stronger under the hands of Miss Darcy, who has been insisting for so long that I refer to her by her Christian name, Georgiana. She is truly such a kind and beautiful thing, but I can sense a bit of loneliness in her. I do know, from Lizzy, that she and her brother were very close before his marriage to Lizzy and she must have been used to him showering her with attention, but with Mr. Darcy having married, Miss Darcy_ **_(scratched)_ ** _Georgiana must be feeling very lonely. I do wonder if... Oh, never mind it. If it did not work for me, it certainly will not work for her. I think I will leave my room today._   
  
_Yours,_   
_  
Catherine Bennet_


	13. 17 - 19 October 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The occupants of Pemberley attend church and Catherine makes a point not to sit anywhere near the Fitzwilliams. The Colonel stops her and angrily confronts her about her cold treatment towards his family. Catherine walks back with Georgiana and Madge and they discuss what the Colonel has said about Catherine and Catherine mentions her childhood friend, Mr. John Fairfax, to the pair, piquing Georgiana's interest. Catherine engages in child's play with the servant girls in the kitchen and nearly hits the Colonel with a dough ball, receiving a scold from Elizabeth.

_Sunday, 17 October 1813_   
  
_On this day, I spent a good deal of time with Georgiana - yes, I have taken to calling her that - and Mrs. Fitzwilliam, although much against my will. Georgiana's company I enjoyed, but after Mrs. Fitzwilliam tried to pry into my business, I had originally had no intentions of finding myself alone in her company again. Georgiana, however, had other feelings on the matter. I suppose I shall relate the details; it started this morning, in church..._

* * *

Sunday morning at half past nine, the local parish was populated with people of Lambton, the nearby village, and the residents of the local estates, including Pemberley. Earlier in the morning, when I had entered, I had tried to seat myself between Lizzy and Georgiana, but Mrs. Fitzwilliam took my arm and asked me, "Please, Miss Bennet, might I take a seat beside you?" When she started calling me Miss Bennet, I do not know, but the formalities felt better.  
  
"I... I'm afraid I promised Miss Darcy the seat beside me," I replied, tensing as she touched my arm.   
  
"But you have two sides, dearest one," she said to me with a kind smile.   
  
"The other I have promised to my sister, Mrs. Darcy, madam," I replied, not meeting her eyes. I could detect the tone of sadness in her voice.   
  
"Oh... I see... I suppose I should sit with my own family, yes," she replied, then let go of my arm and sought out the Colonel, who was somewhere behind me. Throughout the sermon, we all sat and listened intently, I seated between Georgiana and Lizzy and Mrs. Fitzwilliam directly behind me between Lady Matlock and the Colonel; I could hear muttered whispers behind me. Towards the end of the sermon, I started to tire of it and was relieved when it ended, so I tried to rush out to escape the crowd. Not far outside, I felt a large hand wrap around my upper arm and a tension pulling me to a stop; I turned and met the eyes of the Colonel.   
  
"Colonel Fitzwilliam," I said, my face freezing over. "I beg your pardon, sir, but I am walking."   
  
"You can spare a moment," he said in a serious tone. "I need to speak with you."   
  
"Colonel, anything you could possibly have to say to me has already been said," I replied bitterly, tugging my arm free.   
  
"And you reserve every right to be uncivil to me, as my behaviour that day was inexcusable. But please, do not act uncivil towards my sister-in-law. She has done you no wrong and does not deserve to be treated as such," he replied.   
  
"What has she been telling you about me?"   
  
"That you have been acting cold towards her. If you are cold towards her because of my actions, then you are not the lady I judged you to be." I stood there, shocked that the Colonel of all people would speak those words to me, once again; the man who was once so kind and warm towards me. I suppose now, although not then, that I truly did deserve it.   
  
"Perhaps I never was," I replied, "but I will be kind to your sister so long as she does not question me any further regarding what happened between us. If I could forget that month, I would in a heartbeat. Good afternoon, Colonel." I strode away quickly, leaving him standing there either dumbstruck or hurt, or perhaps both, but I continued on until Georgiana and Mrs. Fitzwilliam stopped me and asked if I would join them for a walk, which I did agree to.   
  
The three of us walked, Georgiana and Mrs. Fitzwilliam with their arms linked and I closely behind them, and I listened as the two women spoke of family matters. Mrs. Fitzwilliam appeared to act almost as a mother figure to Georgiana, and perhaps Georgiana needed that; Mrs. Fitzwilliam was old enough to be the mother to both myself and Georgiana. They spoke in confidence of affairs of the town, occasionally asking my opinion on something to which I would agree with, as I had not been listening to a word they were saying. My thoughts were on my interaction with the Colonel at the church. Though brief, it was powerful, and perhaps I proved to the Colonel that I was still the silly and immature girl that I had proven to be under Lydia's influence.   
  
"Catherine?" I was torn from my thoughts as I bumped into Georgiana and Mrs. Fitzwilliam, not knowing they had stopped.   
  
"Dear, are you well?" Mrs. Fitzwilliam asked me, a caring hand on my arm. Despite my coldness towards her, she was still so warm to me and I truly could not understand why.   
  
"Fine," I said after a moment. "Perhaps still recovering from my illness earlier in the week."   
  
"You've been awfully quiet, Catherine," said Georgiana. "I'm not used to you being so quiet."   
  
"I insist, I'm all right. Shall we continue?" I asked, then I started walking again, the two women trailing behind me after a moment. Several moments of silence passed before Mrs. Fitzwilliam spoke again.   
  
"My brother tells me you draw quite well, Miss Bennet," she said to me.   
  
"I possess an ordinary talent," I replied, my back to her as I walked forward. "Nothing exceptional."   
  
"Oh, but he's shown me the work you have given him. You have such a brilliant hand," Mrs. Fitzwilliam told me.   
  
"Is there anything he hasn't told you about me?" I muttered quietly.   
  
"I suppose not, unless there is something about you that the Colonel does not know," she replied, and I closed my eyes in irritation, not knowing she would have been capable of hearing me.   
  
"Do tell me, what has our gallant Colonel told you of me?" I asked, standing straight and continuing without turning.   
  
"He's told me so much that I feel as if we have been acquainted for years, Miss Bennet," Mrs. Fitzwilliam replied. "He's told me that you are an exceptional artist, although still learning. He has told me that you are very attentive and meticulous, very mellow and at peace with everything. He finds you excellent company and very well educated on literature, history and the likes."   
  
"All things I studied in privacy, as my younger sister would not have allowed me the peace," I told her. "When I was young, we were never sent to school nor did we have a governess. Mama did not educate us, except in the basics, so if we had a desire to be educated, we had to learn on our own. I tried to ask my elder sisters, but none of them took me seriously. They all dismissed me a silly, foolish and flirtatious thing."   
  
"My brother has never told me that that is what he thinks of you. In fact, he believes you quite the opposite."   
  
"It does not matter what he thought of me then, as he had no knowledge of me when I was a child. If my sisters would not teach me, I had to find other means, so I went to town in search of a teacher that would take the time to teach me. Instead of a teacher, I found a teacher's son, Mr. John Fairfax was his name. When I wasn't faking silly empty-headedness, I spent my time with young Mr. Fairfax studying books and learning languages. My French is poor, but I know it well and if I could pick up a book today, perhaps it would all come back to me. I learned a few German phrases, Italian phrases, Welsh phrases and even Gaelic phrases, although I was not as proficient in any but French. My education improved quickly with the assistance of Mr. Fairfax."   
  
"What ever became of him?" asked Georgiana. "Did you love him?" I remained silent for a moment.   
  
"Never mind him. Please continue with what you were saying before, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, before I relate my story to you both," I said, still facing forward; I did not turn so that I may hide any emotions I had possessed at the time, although I never was a good actress. As I had said before, Lydia was the Miss Sarah Siddons of our family, not I.   
  
"Well... He has also said that you are occasionally bold and restless, but he never had enjoyed the company of an accomplished woman who had no visible vices. He admires not only your intelligence, but your boldness. I do believe he would do well with a strong woman like yourself, as he lacks that strength," replied Mrs. Fitzwilliam.   
  
"Can we not discuss this any further, please," I said, although it was more of a command than a question. Silence followed before Mrs. Fitzwilliam spoke again.   
  
"Forgive me, Miss Bennet, but what wrong has my brother done you? He will not tell me and I neglect to understand why are so cold-" I whipped around and stopped the two ladies from walking.   
  
"Excuse me, Mrs. Fitzwilliam, but that is not a topic of which I wish to discuss and forgive me for saying so, but it is not your place to understand why I am so cold towards him. I have my reasons and that is my final word on the topic of the Colonel. Good afternoon." I turned quickly on my heel and left, leaving Georgiana and Mrs. Fitzwilliam standing on the path as I strode away, wiping away any tear that dared to form in my eyes. 

* * *

_I had locked myself in my bedchamber after that encounter, claiming that I still felt ill from my illness earlier in the week. I was disturbed twice, once by Georgiana asking if I would speak to her and once by Lizzy asking if I would take my supper in my bedchamber. I responded to neither and lie on my bed, both hungry and sleepless. Sleep will not come to me even now due to both the pains of my stomach and my heart. As much as I had liked escaping from Longbourn, perhaps coming to Pemberley was a mistake._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

_Sunday, 17 October 1813_   
  
_Diary,_   
  
_It has been a week since I have written last, as I have been engaged in matters concerning my brother, my new sister, my possible niece or nephew, my cousin, his sister, his mother and my new sister's younger sister. I fear that things between my cousin and Miss Catherine Bennet are irreparable; what could Richard have possibly done to upset her so? I was not aware that he had harmful thoughts lingering in his mind or on his tongue. Poor Miss Catherine Bennet is heartbroken and she has no one to confide in. I would be glad to open myself up to her, but I do not believe she wishes to confide in me._   
  
_Today, after church, I chose to walk home with Madge and Miss Catherine Bennet, hoping we could all have a delightful conversation, as I understood some sort of tension existed between Madge and Catherine. Madge then spoke of Richard's praise of Catherine's drawing abilities, to which she replied, 'I possess an ordinary talent; nothing exceptional'. Madge then started telling Catherine what Richard has said about her over these last few months, which Catherine appeared to be upset by. It did sound as if Madge was trying to imply that Catherine and Richard would make a good match - I do agree; Richard and Catherine would be quite an excellent match if they could look past their differences - and Catherine was greatly upset by this, and even further upset when Madge asked what the Colonel had done to her. If Catherine had not been an elegant lady, I do believe she would have told Madge and I what Richard had done, but she did not. Despite her coldness and forced indifference to Richard, I do believe that Catherine still cares for him enough to not taint mine and Madge's opinions of him even in the slightest of ways, although they could never change._   
  
_I will make it a point to ask Richard and try to find out what happened between himself and Catherine, and I will try to gain Catherine's trust as best as I can. I fear Madge has lost all of Catherine's trust in trying to get answers from her, and I do hope that Catherine is not the type of woman to hold a grudge._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Georgiana Darcy_

* * *

_Tuesday, 19 October 1813_   
  
_Goodness, I don't even think words exist to describe my embarrassment. Today, the Colonel and Mr. Darcy were out on an errand when I found myself drawn to the kitchens..._

* * *

I had always loved baking with our cook at Longbourn, so when my nose detected the scent of baked sweets, I allowed it to carry me to the kitchens, where a small staff was baking a number of treats. I was dressed in a plain brown dress with a white collar and my hair was up and a bit unruly, so perhaps there was reason behind the cook mistaking me for a servant. She asked me to assist two other girls that were baking with the cook, and missing the childhood activity, I agreed. I started to converse with the two servant girls and before I knew it, we were alone and teasing each other with dough and flour. We were rolling some dough into balls and, as embarrassed as I am to admit to it, we started to toss them at each other. Before I even realised, one of the girls was on the other side of the table, near the closed door that led outside, and I threw one of the balls of dough at her. She ducked, and just as she did, the door opened and nearly hit the man who had opened it; it would have had he not seen it and ducked.  
  
I was dismayed, humiliated and absolutely beside myself when the man stood and revealed himself to be the Colonel, Mr. Darcy behind him. The servant girls froze and and their faces read expressions of humility as well and the Colonel looked straight at me, realising that it was I who had almost hit him with the ball of dough. I covered my gaping mouth in shock and could feel the tears welling up in my eyes; he smiled. Gently, but he smiled, and warmly, too. How could he possibly smile when I had performed a very childish and unladylike action? I could hear Mr. Darcy scolding us, but the words I could not make out, as I was too busy staring at the Colonel with wide eyes and shock reading on my face. His smile was warm and genuine, and it frightened me. I ran out of the kitchens as fast as I could and to my bedchamber. 

* * *

_Lizzy came to scold me and refused to allow me to ignore her, then told me the Colonel wished to speak to me. I told her I wouldn't, but she insisted that I speak to him or she will remove me from Pemberley. While I thought removal from Pemberley would be better, she insisted that I save her from shame and speak to him, if not tonight then tomorrow. I told her I would speak to him tomorrow and she said to me, 'You shall, and you shall accompany him on a walk tomorrow as well. No more incivility'. I do hope that this night is endless, for I do not wish to even face the Colonel after this day._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Catherine Bennet_


	14. 20 - 21 October 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine goes on a walk through the autumn scenery and admires it, while the Colonel admires her from afar. He makes himself known to her and they passionately and angrily discuss the Colonel's insulting proposal, Catherine's treatment of his family and their own personalities. They insult each other even further and the Colonel, in an effort to prevent himself from compromising her, flees, leaving Pemberley altogether.

_Wednesday, 20 October 1813_   
  
_I did not sleep, for I feared greatly what the Colonel would have to say to me regarding my behaviour. I believe my behaviour towards him to be quite justified, as he insulted me and I am not fond of being insulted, as no sane person is. He will probably insult me further and expect me to fall madly in love with him or something of the like, but I shan't. I don't believe I could ever love a man who puts his pride and his position ahead of his feelings. 'Against my better judgement' indeed. Those were my thoughts as I dressed and left the estate early to get a head start. I left a note for Lizzy explaining that I had taken my sketchbook and pencils and gone for a walk and expected to return shortly, but I knew I would be staying out as long as I could to avoid a conversation with the Colonel..._

* * *

The trees were varying shades of orange, red and brown; the grass a similar colour. A breeze rustled the leaves that held onto the trees and loosened the ones that couldn't, carrying with it the loosened leaves. The sky was a clear and brilliant blue with barely a cloud in sight and clashed with the orange and brown of the hills and trees. I wore my hair mostly down to allow the wind the freedom to brush through my hair and carry it whichever way it pleased. It was a beautiful sound, the wind; it brushed gently against my face and against the leaves in the trees. They hissed and whispered their secrets to the skies and told of the many wonders of the world and Mother Nature. As I walked, I would brush my fingers against low bushes or low stone walls and closed my eyes against the breeze. If I stood still, it felt as if I were being lifted by some unknown force and flying through the air. I feared that if I opened my eyes, I would be looking down upon a browning earth and fall from my flight. I took a deep breath; the scent of autumn was very relaxing. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of earth, leaves and the coming winter. Yes, I could feel that the winter of 1813 to 1814 would be a rather cold one just by sniffing the air. I felt myself completely at peace-  
  
"Miss Bennet," said a voice, startling me from my trance. I turned to face my intruder, only to find the Colonel standing a short distance behind me watching me curiously. "Are you all right?" I nodded after a moment, then turned my attention back to the scene before me.   
  
"I've always loved autumn," I replied. "Nothing defeats the beauty of the orange trees and the crisp scent of the air."   
  
"I agree completely," he replied, approaching me carefully. "It does not quite compare with your-"   
  
"Colonel, please," I interrupted him. "I do believe that we are long past that."   
  
"But why do we have to be?" he asked me, stopping beside me; I turned my head towards him.   
  
"Why?" I asked, and then I closed my eyes and let out a sigh before opening them again. "I apologise for yesterday. I used to bake with my sisters when we were children and the servant girls and I thought we were alone," I said suddenly, then turned away again. "It was very silly and childish of me to do such a thing. I must have embarrassed Lizzy and Mr. Darcy immensely."   
  
"Darcy did not even see, Miss Bennet, nor did I see who had thrown the dough. I only assumed it was you based on your reaction. You could have easily blamed one of the servants."   
  
"I wouldn't place my follies on others, Colonel,” I said.

“And that is a wonderful and rare quality that you possess. For the sake of propriety, most girls would never admit to such a thing,” the Colonel replied.

“Well, I would rather face the consequences for my actions than force an innocent person to suffer for them."  
  
"Is that so?" We were both silent for a moment. "You are still so cold to my sister, Miss Bennet, and I cannot possibly come up with any excuse for that kind of behaviour. My sister did you no wrong."   
  
"She continues to ask me what happened and I only wish to forget it. I want to move on with my life, not spend my days mourning over a lost cause."   
  
"Is that what our friendship is, then, Miss Bennet? A lost cause?" I turned to face him.   
  
"Our friendship is against your better judgement." I could see the muscles in his face tense and his expression went from one of severity to one of anger.   
  
"Against my better judgement. You'll never let that go, will you?"   
  
"Why you believe I should I shall probably never know, but you insulted me and I had no desire to tie myself to a man who could insult me so openly."   
  
"Insulted you? After all the kind things I had to say for you, and all of the things I did for you, you dare accuse me of insulting you?"

  
"'I have looked past my better judgement', 'your family has not lived lavishly as mine has', 'a transition to a poor life would be simple for you, but not for me', need I go on?"   
  
"I never said such words!"   
  
"How dare you? You spoke those very words that have been haunting me day and night ever since, making me fearful of never being able to catch a decent husband because 'my family has not lived as lavishly as theirs'. I had an immense amount of respect for you and, dare I say it, I did indeed love you at one point but your words shattered my heart and to this very day, I am not sure what remains of it. You, Colonel, are lying! How dare you be so insensitive? Are you blind to insults directed towards the lower class?"   
  
"I know what I said, Miss Bennet, and the image you have painted of me is not at all what I am-"   
  
"You lie!"   
  
"-and I have come to the conclusion that you are still no more than a child-"   
  
"Oh, go ahead! Insult me further! Your egotistical pride speaks for you!"   
  
"-and I am very glad our friendship failed because I would have found myself in an unhappy and loveless marriage to a silly fool!"   
  
"What care did you ever have for my feelings, Colonel? If you truly cared for me as you claim, you would have never been driven to insult me so hideously! I wish I had had some sort of device that day I could have used to capture your wretched words-"   
  
"You hold onto your bitterness just as a child would, Miss Bennet, and that makes you no more foolish than your ridiculous sister, Mrs. Wickham!"   
  
"And now you compare me to Lydia? You sicken me! I knew your kind words were all feigned. 'You are nothing like your sisters, you are your own unique woman'. Is that what you say to all of them?"   
  
"I feel sorry for you, Miss Bennet. You have spent so much time developing your character that you have forgotten to take your head out of childhood."   
  
"Perhaps that is because I lost my childhood to Lydia. All I ever was to Lydia was a living doll for her to play with and pamper and hold on strings!"   
  
"You need to move past it, Catherine. You are well on your way to being a very accomplished-"   
  
"Oh, don't start and don't call me by my name!"   
  
"-young lady and your ceaseless interruptions will get you no place-"   
  
"They've gotten me out of difficult situations such as this one plenty of times before-"   
  
"-and I shall continue to ignore them while I continue to say that you are a very beautiful woman with so much talent and so much prospect-"   
  
"I don't want to hear it!"   
  
"-and you will someday make a man very happy and I envy that man!" I froze and silenced, not even noticing that our faces were separated by mere centimeters. He stood before me, his eyes boring into mine; we both huffed lightly as we tried to catch our breath. "Miss Catherine Bennet... Any insult I have given you was never intended... I am a man of no charm and poor speaking abilities and I have never known myself to be capable of saying the right thing. I apologise very deeply for any offense or distress my words might have caused you. Even if reconciliation is a lost cause, I will at least apologise for my actions." At this, I was stunned into silence and I stared into his face with a quizzical expression on my face. "Catherine, please, say something..." He spoke in a whisper and I remained silent, completely unsure of what to say.   
  
I suppose he must have been angry with me for my silence, for he grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me nearer to him, his face hovering over mine; it was as if he were to kiss me. I must have looked frightened; after a moment, he let me go and stepped away. "Forgive me... Please, Miss Bennet, forgive me..." His voice cracked and he stumbled as he backed away and I watched him with my continued quizzical expression, and he then ran off, looking to be as distressed as I was on the day when our friendship fell apart. I stood there a few moments watching his retreating form shrink before I suddenly got the bright idea to chase after him.   
  
"Colonel!" I called as I lifted my skirts and started to run. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, wait!" I don't believe I was shouting loud enough, as his retreating form never turned, and I couldn't have been running fast enough; he never appeared closer to me and soon, he disappeared. I stopped on the dirt path with tears in my eyes, calling for him and as heartbroken as I was back in May, but this time, I was the villain. I had been the fiend to break his heart and chase him off and now it was I standing in the middle of the road feeling my own heart shatter into a thousand pieces as I watched what I had done unfold before me. Was this how the Colonel felt on that day? How could I have been so selfish, running away from him like that... 

* * *

_I returned to Pemberley in a hurry, asking every servant or occupant I came across where the Colonel had gone, but none had seen him. I even asked Mrs. Fitzwilliam, who joined me in my worry. We had heard no word of him for the rest of the night and he did not appear for supper, so as I lay my head down tonight, I know that I will not sleep. All these weeks, I have been so foolish, childish and selfish; all I want now is for the Colonel to take me into his arms, hold me, and ask me to love him for eternity. I do believe that for as long as I live, I shall always love the Colonel and for just as long, I shall always carry the guilt of shattering his heart twice. He sought my affection and gave me his heart twice, and I broke it both times. Would he dare try a third time? Perhaps it will have to be me who seeks his heart, but would he dare trust me enough to give it to me?_   
  
_I will have much to think of tonight as I lay here sleepless._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

_Thursday, 21 October 1813_   
  
_I am a fool. A silly, selfish, stupid fool. How could I have not guessed that he would leave? He had apparently informed his sister and mother that he had militia duties elsewhere and had to leave, but I know that it was I who caused his departure. He would have still been here happy and, had I not been a stubborn fool, perhaps we would be engaged. Married life with the Colonel could have been so interesting, living through all of his stories that had been made and all of his stories that would come... At his side would be his loyal wife and a child, a son or a daughter with his handsome looks, and together, the family would conquer the world._   
  
_With him gone, I shall probably never achieve this dream. I will see another woman and her child by his side when I next see him, I am certain, and I would greatly deserve it. Mrs. Fitzwilliam is still being so kind to me despite my behaviour, and when I was given the news that the Colonel had left, she sat beside me with her arms around me and whispered, 'I knew you loved him' into my ear as I cried senselessly. I do believe that, despite past differences, Mrs. Fitzwilliam and I could become friends in due time._   
  
_Yours,_   
_  
Catherine Bennet_


	15. 23 October 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to distract herself, Catherine begins to sketch scenes from descriptions in books. Lady Matlock receives a letter from her daughter, Mrs. Lucy Finch, who lives in Canada and writes daily to Lady Matlock. As Georgiana and Catherine discuss her, Lady Matlock learns that Mrs. Finch had a son and while discussing Mr. Finch, Catherine is reminded of Mr. John Fairfax. Georgiana questions Catherine about him and convinces her to indirectly invite him to the ball. Catherine writes to Mr. Fairfax.

_Saturday, 23 October 1813_   
  
_It is a week before the ball that Lizzy is to host here at Pemberley and not one of us has heard from the Colonel. Not I, not Lizzy, not Mr. Darcy, not Georgiana, not Mrs. Fitzwilliam and not even Lady Matlock! Two days have passed, of course, so perhaps a letter is on its way. I do hope so, for Lady Matlock's sake, as I can't even imagine the horror a mother would feel if she does not hear from her child at least once a month or at least less than two. I do know that she is already on edge with her daughter, Mrs. Finch, being so far away and in America in the middle of all the turmoil there. Hopefully, the war with America comes to an end soon._   
  
_Not much happens now, although I am certainly taking the time now to properly acquaint myself with Mrs. Fitzwilliam and Lady Matlock..._

* * *

I sat in the music room with an atlas while Georgiana entertained the air with her beautiful piano playing. With the atlas on the table in front of me and my sketchbook open in my lap, I drew a scene based on a description of a village in Ireland called Ballivor in County Meath. It was a small and rural village with medieval roots and a good deal of English presence, probably much to the villagers' dismay. The paragraph read:  
  
_'The hills of Ballivor were a verdant field of flourishing flora that was very pleasing to the eye. Above the hills, the clear beryl skies looked as if they touched the ground, but went on for miles. The village consisted of a few cottages, though not many, and a small village centre for public events of the like. The town square was small and featured, in the centre, a stone well with a wooden top; here, the villagers would bring their buckets and send them to the bottom of the well for their water. On the outskirts of the village was a shortly inclined hill and on top of that hill was an old oak tree; ‘Crochta Cnoc’, the villagers called it, and it translated to Hanging Hill in English. There, victims of treason, murder, theft and various other crimes would hang from the neck until dead.’_   
  
It was a gruesome paragraph towards the end, but I don't recall ever having read before a passage describing Ireland in a good light; every passage painted them to be malicious and inhuman fiends. In my sketch, I left out the part about _Crochta Cnoc_ although I did sketch the hill and the old oak tree. Without the hangman's noose, the tree looked very beautiful, much like any other tree; natural, as it should be. As I finished my sketch, we were joined by the company of Mrs. Fitzwilliam and Lady Matlock, who sat across from me and watched as I shaded in parts of my sketch. "You draw beautifully," said Mrs. Fitzwilliam, moving to my side and glancing at my sketch.   
  
"Adequately, perhaps, but I am still learning. I have only been sketching since April," I replied as I focused on shading in the roof of the well.   
  
"'Adequately' does not even adequately describe your talents, Miss Bennet," she replied, then she sat in silence and watched me shade. When I had finished, she gently took my sketchbook from me to admire it. "It's so beautiful, Miss Bennet, truly. You might not see it, but I do and I think it to be beautiful."   
  
"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Fitzwilliam. You are welcome to keep it if you so desire, although I fear you may think it rubbish later," I replied.   
  
"Never! I love it very much and I thank you a thousand times for this gift," said Mrs. Fitzwilliam as she admired it. "Mother, what do you think?" She turned the drawing towards Lady Matlock, who clapped her hands together.   
  
"Wonderful! Very wonderful, Miss Bennet! I have seen many an artist in my day, but none so talented as yourself!" said Lady Matlock excitedly. I blushed a bit and turned my attention to the atlas in front of me, flipping through the pages to find another scene to sketch as Mrs. Fitzwilliam and Lady Matlock fussed over my sketch of the Irish village. As this occurred, a manservant entered the room bearing a silver tray with a letter upon it; he stopped beside Lady Matlock.   
  
"A letter for you, madam," he said, lowering the tray; she took the letter from it.   
  
"Thank you, kind sir," she replied, and the manservant left. As she read the handwriting on the front of the envelope, she smiled brightly. "It is from Lucy!"   
  
"Read it, mother! Read it!" cried Mrs. Fitzwilliam as she scurried to the other couch; Georgiana stopped playing and rushed over as well, clearly interested to hear what Lucy had to say, and sat beside me.   
  
"Lucy is Lady Matlock's daughter and the Colonel's younger sister," she whispered to me. "She writes to Lady Matlock every day and the Colonel every week, although it takes an entire month for them to arrive from Canada, so we are about a month behind in the news of Lucy."   
  
"This is Mrs. Finch?" I asked, and Georgiana nodded. "How much younger than the Colonel is she?"   
  
"My cousin, the Colonel, is two and thirty as of August and my cousin, Mrs. Finch, is eight years his junior, putting her at a mere twenty-four," Georgiana whispered in response. "She was quite a surprise for Lord and Lady Matlock! She was believed not to live past infancy, but she is now married and in the New World and has been for five years. She married Captain Finch when she was your age."   
  
"Goodness, how old was the former viscount when he passed?" I whispered quietly so Lady Matlock and Mrs. Fitzwilliam wouldn't hear.   
  
"Three and forty," replied Georgiana. "He was eleven years the Colonel's senior."   
  
"Why such an age difference in all of the Fitzwilliam siblings?"   
  
"There were many in between the former viscount and the Colonel and a few after the Colonel that either were never born or never lived past infancy."   
  
"How terrible!"   
  
"Nonsense, Miss Bennet! Lucy's letter is filled with wonderful news! She bore her husband a son last month!" cried Mrs. Fitzwilliam excitedly.   
  
"He was christened Henry Fitzwilliam Finch!" cried Lady Matlock, quite excited at the news of her daughter's successful childbirth. "I had worried greatly that my Lucy would not have a safe childbirth. She has had such complications in the past and has yet to have a child born alive. I hope that the Lord has blessed my Lucy with a child that will live a long and healthy life."   
  
"I shall pray for Mrs. Finch and her child," I said with a smile. "I congratulate you greatly! Is there word of how mother and child are doing or is that letter to arrive at a later date?"   
  
"It says in her letter that her child is healthy and that she herself is doing well, for the time being. She declared that the midwife had to deliver the child unnaturally to avoid further complications," said Mrs. Fitzwilliam.   
  
"Madgelena! That is not an appropriate topic to discuss with Georgiana and Miss Bennet!" cried Lady Matlock in a scolding tone and Mrs. Fitzwilliam flushed.   
  
"Forgive me, dears," she said, seeing the look of horror etched onto Georgiana's face at the mention of such a delivery.   
  
"He shall be a man capable of defeating Macbeth," I replied with a smile. "'Fear not, Macbeth. No man that's born of woman Shall e'er have power upon thee.'"   
  
"Oh, you sound so acquainted with Mr. Shakespeare's works! Have you not yet seen Miss Sarah Siddons's performance as Lady Macbeth? She is brilliant!" cried Mrs. Fitzwilliam, feeling much more comfortable and at ease after my comment.   
  
"Then a strong young man he will become; a king, perhaps!" cried Lady Matlock with pride, reading over the letter from her daughter. "I am so proud of my Lucy. She sounds so happy in Canada with Captain Finch, although I do wish she were not so far from me. Captain Finch shall have my dislike only in that regard."   
  
"Oh, but Captain Finch is so admirable, Mother! He has an attentive mind, a brilliant way with words, he is strong, bold and very handsome! He is an accomplished man and an excellent soldier and Lucy is very lucky to have met such a man," said Mrs. Fitzwilliam.   
  
"His admirable qualities remind me of a boy I knew growing up," I said quietly, thinking back to my childhood companion when he was a boy. He had grown to be a very handsome man with wavy brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, tall and lean...   
  
"Your Mr. Fairfax?" Georgiana asked, interrupting my thoughts.   
  
"Hm? Oh, yes! My childhood friend, young Mr. Fairfax. He is only two years my senior and is very much responsible for my knowledge and passion for Mr. Shakespeare's work," I replied.   
  
"You spoke of him on our walk Sunday," said Mrs. Fitzwilliam. "What kind of a man is he?"   
  
"Very bright, intelligent, knowledgeable on current events and such... He was the son of a blacksmith and a teacher, although he himself became a lawyer," I replied.   
  
"Where did he get the funds?" asked Mrs. Fitzwilliam. "Excuse me for my brashness, but I cannot help my curiosity. Being the son of a blacksmith and a teacher, how could he..."   
  
"His gentleman of an uncle died childless and left him a small fortune. It angered his father, although his father and uncle had never gotten along. The older Mr. Fairfax, the uncle of young Mr. Fairfax - John is his Christian name - had a small fortune from having been a merchant but took ill with the consumption and willed his estate and his small fortune to his only nephew, as Mr. John Fairfax had no siblings," I replied. "He left young Mr. John Fairfax a small income of three hundred pounds a year and that was used for his studies."   
  
"Is he a good lawyer?" asked Lady Matlock.   
  
"A great one. I have snuck out of my home to visit Meryton and witness his trials. He has mostly acted as a defendant and most of his clients had gone free or gotten off with a small fee to pay," I said to her.   
  
"What does he look like? And how many years has he?" asked Georgiana.   
  
"He towers over most, he has wavy brunette hair, beautiful blue eyes and a very handsome face. He is a bit lanky and a little clumsy, but his charm makes up for it. He is a very considerate man, too, although I have not spoken with him in a year at least. He is nineteen, I believe; perhaps twenty," I told her.   
  
"Would you consider inviting him to the ball Saturday next?" asked Georgiana excitedly, seeming very interested in a man she had only heard of and never met.   
  
"Goodness, would Lizzy approve? She hardly knows the Fairfax family! And I do not believe he could attend on such short notice!" I said with a laugh.   
  
"Oh, please, Catherine? Could you write to him? Perhaps mention the ball and maybe he will desire to attend, catch a carriage here and attend it anyway?"   
  
"Are you suggesting I ask him to crash it?" I let out a laugh, then stopped when I saw her blushing cheeks. "All right, I will write to him, but I shall only casually mention the ball." 

* * *

_As soon as I finish this entry, I will write to John Fairfax, although I do doubt the letter would reach him in time. On express, it will reach him by Monday, and even on his fastest horse, he would not be here until Wednesday. He does not know Lizzy nor has ever met her, so I do believe that even trying to get him interested in attending is a silly thought. I have not even spoken to him in a year at least! But for Georgiana's sake, I will try. I do wonder what has gotten her so interested in a man she has hardly heard any news of._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

_To Mr. John Fairfax of Meryton in Hertfordshire_   
  
_23 October, 1813_   
  
_Dear John,_   
  
_How do you do, old friend? I know it has been so long since we last spoke, but last night, I dreamt of you and ever since, I have not been able to stop thinking of you and recalling the fun we had as children. Upon our last meeting, I was a silly fool who lived in the shadow of my silly foolish sister, Lydia - surely, you have heard of her scandal. Who in all of Hertfordshire hasn't? She is Mrs. George Wickham now and is far north in Newcastle. With Lydia's influence removed, I have found myself to be a kind of woman I never thought myself to be._   
  
_How is your trial with Mr. Bennickburgh going? If it is still happening, of course. It has been nearly a month that I have been out of the country - I am visiting my sister, Mrs. Darcy, and her home, Pemberley, in Derbyshire - so I do not know much of the current news in Hertfordshire. I am here in Derbyshire to attend a ball Saturday next that my sister will be hosting with her husband and my new brother. Pemberley is beautiful, I must say; surely, you remember Mr. Darcy when he visited us last autumn? He is nothing of the snob Hertfordshire had once believed him to be and Mr. Wickham is not the charming hero we thought he was, either. Mr. Darcy's beautiful home will be sure to hold a beautiful ball - Pemberley is near Lambton; I know you had once visited a trial there - and it is also home to his very beautiful and accomplished sister._   
  
_I must sound silly, I'm sure, but I have much to tell you. If it were not late, I would spew out all I could into this letter, but I would not want to give you fourteen pages of my hideous handwriting! It would be much simpler to tell you in person, although that shall probably have to be a task I perform when I return home to Hertfordshire in a few months' time. For now, I shall be happy to correspond in letters._   
  
_Your friend,_   
  
_Kitty Bennet_   
  
_P.S. - I do recall that when we were children, you would say that 'Kitty' was a foolish name and insisted on calling me 'Catherine' instead. It shall please you, then, that I now agree with you and have started calling myself 'Catherine'._


	16. 27 October 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine recalls her last interaction with her childhood friend, Mr. John Fairfax, while awaiting a response to her letter.

_Wednesday, 27 October 1813_   
  
_It is now Wednesday and we have not yet heard a word from Mr. John Fairfax. I cannot say that I am surprised because I have not spoken to Mr. Fairfax in so long and upon our last meeting, he appeared to be so hideously disgusted with me. In June of 1811, when we had last met, I had been a silly flirtatious fool of sixteen and I, along with Lydia, followed around every soldier that came. At Meryton, we were so used to fresh faces and previously unseen redcoats, so Lydia and I were free to be flirtatious fools until the soldiers caught on. I can remember Mr. Fairfax's interactions with me..._

* * *

The date was Saturday, the twentieth day of June in the year 1811; I remember it clearly. Mr. Fairfax, fresh out of school - how he achieved such an early graduation I will never know, but I had always known him to be a very clever and ambitious man - was in town to attend a trial of a drunkard; many soldiers bored with the town's activities attended. Lydia, being the silly foolish girl she was, was interested only in flirting with the soldiers there and distracting them from the trial, while a part of me wanted to watch Mr. Fairfax in action. Of course, I couldn't let Lydia know this, as she would laugh at me and call me hideous names and tell Mama that I was more interested in trials than catching a husband, and Mama would never stand for that. She insisted that all of us - myself, Jane, Lizzy, Mary and Lydia - act more feminine and sensitive to such topics.  
  
I followed Lydia wherever she went and stopped wherever she did; she stopped in a hat shop to pretend she was looking for a new bonnet as she flirted senselessly with young soldiers looking for bonnets for their mothers. Another stop she made was in the bookstore, in which she had never set foot in before except to flirt with young men who clearly had no interest in her. I was silent mostly, but a side glance from her prompted me to start flirting as well. I hated her side glances; they always said 'I shall tell Mama that you have no interest in men and you shall shame her to death'. Finally, at last, we made it to the trial, and she made certain to seat us in the section where many of the soldiers were seated.  
  
It was Mr. John Fairfax's first trial; I was dressed in a pale blue frock with a matching bonnet and Lydia in a bright pink and matching bonnet with green ribbons adorning it. We were an eyesore, truly, in a sea of red that was already rather blinding and perhaps distracting to the prosecutor and the defendant - Mr. Fairfax was the defendant. The man in question was the town drunkard, Mr. Soapseat, whom everyone in Meryton knew to have no strong hold on his drinking abilities. However, we had come in possession of a new judge from another town somewhere in Hertfordshire and he knew nothing of Mr. Soapseat, so we were certain that he would not give Mr. Soapseat a simple fee as he had always been given; the prosecutor, a man from London whom knew not the town at all, would certainly use that to his advantage.  
  
"This man," said the prosecutor, "is a known offender in Meryton. He has caused many disruptions of everyday life for the residents of Meryton and, in the past, has gotten away with it quite often. Mr. George Soapseat has never learned from his mistakes because he has always been granted the easy path."  
  
"I object, your honour," said Mr. Fairfax, standing. "Mr. Evans here has no knowledge of Mr. Soapseat or of his role in Meryton. As a longtime resident-"  
  
"Objection overruled, Mr. Fairfax, now please have a seat," said the judge, hushing Mr. Fairfax up. I wanted to strangle that judge, but Mr. Fairfax sat without a complaint.  
  
"As I was saying," Mr. Evans continued snidely, "Mr. George Soapseat has had many convictions in the past and has only been given a slight slap on the wrist - a small fee, if you will, and have those fees ever been paid?" Silence. "No, your honour! Not one!"  
  
"Oh, this is so boring," Lydia whined quietly, and I shushed her. "You're boring!" She turned to the soldier beside her. "I'm so bored. I don't know why I even dared to come here! Everyone knows Mr. Soapseat will only be given another fine to pay!"  
  
"Shh! Lydia!" I snapped as I tried to pay attention to the trial.  
  
"Oh, Kitty, as if you're truly interested in this boring thing," Lydia replied with a smirk. "These handsome soldiers surrounding us are so much more interesting. I do believe Mama would agree." I closed my eyes in irritation, then turned my attention to the soldier beside me; he was smiling giddily at me.  
  
"What is a pretty girl like you doing here in a courtroom?" he asked me, and I smiled and giggled flirtatiously in response.  
  
"Oh, nothing much. And what brings you here?" I asked him.  
  
"Quite the same," he replied. "My name is Theodore Barnum, but you, my dear, are welcome to call me Teddy."  
  
"Oh, Mr. Barnum, I do not believe that to be appropriate," I replied in a flirtatious manner.  
  
"Might I ask what I should call you?"  
  
"Kitty! Excuse me, my name is Kitty Bennet."  
  
"Well, Miss Kitty Bennet, you are most certainly a beautiful girl." I blushed and giggled.  
  
"Thank you," I said. Still smiling like a fool, I felt a pair of eyes on me and when I turned in their direction, I caught the gaze of Mr. John Fairfax, who had turned around and was staring at me as Mr. Evans continued his speech. I blushed even further, then smiled at him and waved lightly; he continued to stare.  
  
"Er... Miss Kitty?" With surprise, I turned to Mr. Barnum beside me, who had tapped my shoulder and drawn my attention.  
  
"Mr. Fairfax, are you listening?" cried the judge, and Mr. Fairfax jumped and stood up.  
  
"Yes, sir. Very clearly, sir," he replied.  
  
"Mr. Fairfax, I understand that you are young and fresh out of school, but staring at the public and not paying attention to your client's defense will not be tolerated in my courtroom!" the judge snapped in outrage.  
  
"Yes, sir. I understand, sir. My deepest apologies," he said, and then sat back down.  
  
"I have heard both sides, and with the defendant's poor representative and lack of a proper argument, I shall declare Mr. George Soapseat guilty of not only disrupting the peace of this town, but of withholding hundreds of pounds in debt. Mr. George Soapseat, I sentence you to a workhouse until your debts have been paid off. This court is dismissed," said the judge, and he stood. "Mr. Fairfax, I advise you to pay closer attention to your clients in the future if you want to be a successful representative. Good day to you." Defeated, Mr. Fairfax sat and appeared devastated at having lost his first case; I felt so terrible for him and remained seated as the courtroom emptied, watching him the entire time.  
  
"Kitty, aren't you coming?" Lydia asked me after what felt like moments. The courtroom had emptied entirely and all that remained were myself, Lydia, the soldier she was flirting with, Mr. Barnum and Mr. Fairfax.  
  
"In a moment. Go, I shall catch up," I told her, and I climbed out of the seating area and descended the stairs to the main floor, quietly approaching Mr. Fairfax. I stopped a good distance from him, not wanting to disturb him quite yet. Before speaking, I glanced behind me to confirm that Lydia, her soldier and Mr. Barnum had left. "J-John? Are you well?" Silence followed; I spoke again. "Mr. Fairfax?" He stirred, then placed his face in his palms.  
  
"My first case..." he muttered into his hands. "My first case was to assist a man who trusted me with his life and his future escape another silly trial, but I didn't! I failed him and he will now die alone in a workhouse because of unpaid debts that the town waived off!"  
  
"Oh, John, it's not your fault," I said as I approached him, standing behind him. "It is not your fault the court hired a new judge. That man does not know how we do things in Meryton! He does not understand how important Mr. Soapseat is to our town! And neither does Mr. Evans! Please, don't let this distress you. We will all do something-" As I placed a hand on his shoulder, he leapt up and shoved my hand away.  
  
"Of course it's not my bloody fault! It's yours!" he cried, and I recoiled almost in terror at his outburst. "Had you not distracted me with your senseless flirting with every redcoat you see or your stupid foolish giggling, I would not have lost my argument and I would not have lost my case! And what is that hideous thing you're wearing? It is an awful color and you look like a damn peacock!" At his outburst, I was horrified, and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.  
  
"John..." I muttered, my tone betraying my tears. I wanted to scream at him and shout in his face that it was his fault for turning in my direction, that he could have kept his attention on the case and paid attention without having ever known I was there, I wasn’t loud - but my bravery, boldness and sharp tongue were in hiding at the time, suppressed by the influence of Mama and Lydia; I hadn’t even met the Colonel yet. I did not breathe a word.  
  
"Oh, don't start with those foolish tears! I can see through them! I thought you an elegant young woman with a mind of her own and plenty of sense, but I was wrong! When I went away to school, you were well on your way to being a lady of worth, but I see now that you are nothing more than a silly husband catcher!" he shouted at me, then strode past me; he stopped near the door. "I don't wish to speak with you any longer, Miss Catherine Bennet. You have perhaps ruined my good name in this town forever. I shall always be remembered as the buffoon who let a judge send Mr. Soapseat to his death in a workhouse for debts the town has forgiven for years!" With that said, he stormed out of the court, leaving me standing in the centre of the room.  
  
I collapsed into a heap of hideous pale blue onto the floor and cried into my white gloves, staining them and dampening them with my tears. I could hardly believe it; he blamed me for his failure! Me and my silly, childish behaviour flirting with men. I vowed to myself, on that floor, that I would no longer seek Lydia's guidance when it came to growing up and instead, I would become that elegant and accomplished lady that Mr. Fairfax wanted me to be. I told myself again and again as I stood and emerged from that courtroom, but my courage to make that change failed me as soon as I saw Lydia's hideous smirk as she entranced both her soldier and Mr. Barnum.  
  
I was a fool to think I could change and I was a fool for believing I was brave enough to make that change. I was quite the coward and deathly afraid of Lydia's and Mama's opinions of me that no matter how much I wanted to change, I just couldn't. At the young age of sixteen, I was lost and afraid and trapped inside my own head while my physical being was attached to strings that Lydia and Mama used to make me dance. They made me do silly dances and flirt with every man with money that walked by, while in my head, my screaming only got louder. I only wanted to be free from their grasp, but I was too afraid.

* * *

_Mr. Fairfax had always been so kind and open with me when we were children. We would always escape from our homes to play in a field or climb trees or sit beneath them and read to each other from many classic works of literature. Together, we would come up with our own stories and write our own poems and sing songs for hours on end, and I would then come home to be scolded by Mama. The time came when he turned twelve - I was ten - and he was to be his father's apprentice in the blacksmith shop, so I saw less and less of him until I saw almost none of him at all. When I did, we passed each other on the streets of Meryton and nodded, perhaps even smiled to each other, but nothing more._   
  
_I doubt anyone besides myself in my family ever gave Mr. Fairfax a second thought. Papa was never fond of him and always worried about me running off to play with the blacksmith's son, while Mama worried about what it would do to her reputation. My sisters thought I was silly to do so, although Mary would never tell Mama when she caught me returning home after having been out with him. I wonder now what Mr. Fairfax would think of me..._   
  
_A long time ago, I was in love with Mr. Fairfax, but after having not seen him for well over a year, I do believe my sentiments for him have left me and were then replaced by my love for the Colonel. Ah, yes, I do declare that I still love the Colonel and perhaps always shall. The Colonel is a man so unlike any other; he never judged me or teased me or made fun of my decisions as Mr. Fairfax had when we were children. He never laughed at my clothing choices or my choice of activity or passage of reading or my choice of poem as young Mr. Fairfax did. Even as near adults, he still teased me and laughed at me. If he were to appear here in Derbyshire, and Georgiana were to meet him, I do wonder if he would take an interest in her. For her sake, I hope he never learns that she is to inherit thirty-thousand pounds upon marriage._   
  
_Yours,_   
_  
Catherine Bennet_


	17. 29 - 30 October 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A ball is held at Pemberley and a surprise guest greets Catherine Bennet; Georgiana is taken with him. A private talk in the garden turns dangerously passionate for Catherine.

_ Friday, 29 October 1813 _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It has been so long and we still have heard no word either from the Colonel or Mr. Fairfax. Georgiana is disappointed that Mr. Fairfax never replied while I am not the least bit surprised, while I am also devastated that the Colonel has not once given us notice of where he is or where he is headed. I dream of him every night and the kind words he spoke to me during his stay at Longbourn. I was such a fool not to accept his proposal then and I immensely regret it now. If only I had taken the time to understand him! Perhaps, if he did not love me then, he would have learned to love me. Why else would he have proposed to me? I suppose I shall always be the silly fool that Mr. Fairfax happily reminded me that I was way back in June of 1811. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It is now the day before the ball here at Pemberley and Lizzy's mind is in chaos now with all of the fussing she must do to prepare for the ball. The beverages and food must be perfect, the music must be exactly what she and Mr. Darcy agreed on, the guest list must be read over again and again, our dresses must have their final touches added - Mrs. Fitzwilliam and Lady Matlock will remain in their bedchambers, as they are in mourning and it is not appropriate for a widow and a grieving mother to attend a ball - and the rooms must be scrubbed from the very top to the very bottom. This will be Georgiana's first public ball and I can sense that she is nervous, but I know that she will do wonderful in society. I have strong faith in her. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ For now, I must end this entry and assist Lizzy with preparations for the ball. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Yours, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Catherine Bennet _ _   
_

* * *

_ Saturday, 30 October 1813 _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I have sat here ten minutes now struggling to come up with a way to explain what happened tonight at the ball. It is dawn, as I can tell from my still drawn curtains, and I am starting to have no need for this candle beside me. Soon, the sunlight will filter through my windowpanes and I will have no need for it. Goodness, look at me prattling on about useless nonsense... It shall take several pages for me to tell the story of what happened tonight... _ _   
_

* * *

The day started out very busy and bustling, as I had to assist Lizzy with last minute details such as decorations and foods and beverages and the music pieces. We had to close off all rooms we did not wish guests to wander into and make sure that all rooms that guests were welcome to visit were unlocked or open. When three hours past noon came, we began to dress in our ball gowns. The latest style varied, but the highest fashions dictated that white was to be worn at all balls, as we did when we attended the Netherfield ball in November. My dress, in a French style, was a very elegant ivory colour made of light muslin and a sheer gossamer overlay with a black floral pattern embroidered at the bottom and with small black flowers embroidered throughout it; the sleeves and the waist were adorned with a beautiful ivory silk ribbon and my hair was done up neatly - not piled on the top of my head - and held by a matching ivory silk ribbon. I must say that, even though I never thought myself beautiful in the past, I believed I looked quite elegant and handsome in my ball gown.   
  
I left my bedchamber nearly three hours later and met Lizzy and Mr. Darcy in the entrance hall; both looked almost stunned when their eyes fell on me, and I couldn't help but smile. "Kitty, is that you?" Lizzy asked me upon my descent.   
  
"That is not Kitty, dearest. That is the beautiful and elegant Miss Catherine Bennet," said Mr. Darcy, and I blushed gently.   
  
"How very kind of you both, but I am no different," I replied. "I have only put on a different dress and done my hair differently."   
  
"How much rouge did you put on?" Lizzy asked me, approaching me to take my arm.   
  
"Oh! I haven't put on any! I've forgotten!" I cried in embarrassment, and Lizzy laughed.   
  
"You do not need it, Kitty, believe me! You look very beautiful without it," she told me.   
  
"Your words are kind, Lizzy, but I am still no more than ordinary. Simply dressed up a bit," I replied with a gentle smile. I truly felt so much more mature then than I ever had in the past and I felt much more like a woman than I had before. Nearly a year before, I had been a silly girl dancing at a local private ball in a dress not nearly as beautiful nor as elegant as this one and with my hair done not nearly as beautifully either. At that moment, Georgiana began her descent of the staircase and I found myself in awe as I stared at her beautiful form. An elegant woman already, she wore a long-sleeved white muslin dress with a decent cut and a long silk shawl wrapped around her arms; her blonde curls were done up in a beautiful angelic style with a few stray pieces dangling freely. She looked absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking.   
  
"Georgiana, you look absolutely divine," her brother complimented her as he handed her down from the staircase, and Georgiana laughed warmly.   
  
"How kind of you, brother! You look quite dashing yourself, and Lizzy and Catherine, you both look so beautiful! I adore your dress, Catherine! You shall be the prettiest lady in the entire room," Georgiana said to me from her brother's arm.   
  
"Nonsense, I shall always be plain no matter how much I adorn myself, but you will capture every man's heart tonight," I replied, and she blushed and glanced down towards her feet, leaving us in a moment of silence.   
  
"Our guests should be arriving soon," said Lizzy. "Mr. Darcy, you'll help me receive them?"   
  
"As a good host should, and Georgiana and Catherine may assist us," he said, nodding to myself and Georgiana. I smiled at his mention of me, as I very much enjoyed hearing him refer to me by my Christian name - it was as if he was finally comfortable with acknowledging me as his sister. Together, the four of us received many guests, all of them greeting Georgiana and I with brilliant smiles and showering us with compliments. Georgiana was rather shy, but still polite, and I was complimented but not quite welcomed by many. To most of them, I was simply a guest at Pemberley and nothing more, but I said nothing on the manner. We received our guests for an hour before we joined the party in the ballroom and I was astonished at how brilliant it looked filled with people.   
  
Men were dressed in their black coats and women in their beautiful white gowns as they milled about the room, but the guests had nothing on the ballroom itself. The ceilings were high and held up by beautiful Greek Corinthian columns and the ceiling was adorned with beautiful Baroque paintings of angels, Jesus Christ and other biblical scenes and it made me wonder exactly what made the Sistine Chapel such a popular attraction when Pemberley itself had ceilings much more elegant and beautiful. There were beautiful windowpanes and French doors that lined two sides of the room and peeked out on the balcony beside it; golden curtains that glittered beneath the sparkling chandeliers concealed their corners. There were settees beneath the windows and tables with bouquets of white roses and calla lilies in between each one and on the other side of the room was a raised area behind a row of columns where a table decorated with food sat and where many guests were already seated and helping themselves to a snack. Above that was a small balcony where the musicians played beautiful tunes and already, people were dancing. Cards filled up quickly and many beautiful young women could be seen laughing away as they danced the sets with their agile partners.   
  
My card was hardly filled, and I saved the final dance in case, by chance, the Colonel came back. A part of me knew he wouldn't return so soon after our encounter, but that same part of me, plus more, hoped against hope that he would still come. As the hours passed and it was one hour shy of midnight, I stood near the French doors behind one of the columns scanning the crowd for even the slightest glimpse of the Colonel - he wouldn't be easy to miss, as his reddish hair could be spotted from a great distance away - but alas, I saw nothing of the sort. With a sad sigh, I hid my dance card from view so no man could claim the final spot that I was saving for him. I simply stood there watching when I heard a delicate cough behind me, and I turned to see a man standing in the shadows behind me, nearly concealed by the curtain; he was turned towards me.   
  
"Excuse me," I said, not having recognized his form from receiving the guests earlier. "I do not believe I saw you enter. Are you welcome here?"   
  
"I do believe my invitation was hinted at, if not given openly," he replied in a voice that sounded very familiar to me, although I could not pinpoint it for the life of me.   
  
"Hinted at, you say? If Mrs. Darcy does not know you, then you ought to leave, sir," I replied.   
  
"I guess in a technical sense, I do. But come now, you wouldn't want to distress her now, would you?" he said to me. "You are Miss Catherine Bennet, correct?"   
  
"And what does it matter to you?" At that, he stepped from the shadows and revealed a face to me that I had seen so many times, that I had dreamt of so many times and that I had cried myself to sleep over so many times. He had a handsome face, a bit rounded, with a delicate jaw, a sharp nose, a sly smile, brilliant blue eyes and, on the top of his head, tousled dark brown hair that only added to his looks. He was tall, lean, a little scrawny, and as he stepped from the shadows, he stumbled slightly, and my hand flew to my mouth. "No..." He stopped a couple of metres in front of me and bowed elegantly.   
  
"Mr. John Fairfax at your service," he said, then stood erect. "I scanned this room for an hour hoping to find some silly girl flirting senselessly with every eligible man in Lambton, although I found this ballroom to be lacking in the type. I had to ask a servant to point you out to me and when he did, he described you to be the most beautiful young woman in the room. I dare say I agree with his statement." I still stood there, hand over my mouth, staring at him with wide eyes as he stepped closer. "Come now, Miss Catherine Bennet, that is no way to greet an old friend!"   
  
"What are you doing here? I thought you were ignoring my letter!" I said suddenly, and he stopped.   
  
"So much time has passed, hasn't it? I thought I would toy with you a bit and make you believe that I was still angry with you and came here as quickly as I could. I arrived only this afternoon, as I had an affair to handle in London before I arrived, and as soon as I arrived, I took no time to rest and began to prepare for this ball. I must say, Mrs. Darcy did a beautiful job planning," said Mr. Fairfax, approaching me yet again and looking around the room; he stopped at my side and looked at me. "You truly do look to be the most beautiful woman in the room, Miss Bennet."   
  
"I thank you for your compliment, but I cannot be. My new brother's kind sister is far more beautiful than I-"   
  
"And I am certain she has done her hair in some angelic fashion and has painted her face hideously with a considerable amount of rouge."   
  
"Mr. Fairfax, that is horrible to say! Miss Darcy is a very kind young woman and a very beautiful one, too. She is accomplished, speaks eloquently and plays the pianoforte better than anyone I have ever heard before. And she used about as much rouge as I, for your records."   
  
"So none? I can tell when a lady is wearing rouge, my dear Miss Bennet, and I can see very clearly that your cheeks are clear as day." He took my chin in his hand to admire my cheeks before letting go. "Forgive me if I have stunned you into awkwardice, Miss Catherine, if that is even a word."   
  
"No, I don't believe it is," I told him. "I am mostly surprised you even bothered to come. I wrote to you only a week before today and surely, the letter never even reached you until Monday-"   
  
"It did indeed, and as soon as it did, I set off. Do tell me, how are your sisters? All four."   
  
"All are married and happy," I replied. "Jane is now Mrs. Charles Bingley, Lizzy is now Mrs. Darcy, Mary is now Mrs. Edward Casey and Lydia... Lydia is now Mrs. George Wickham."   
  
"Ah, yes, I recall that scandal. Your younger sister was always such a foolish thing and you were, too, but not by birth. You were a fool for following in her shadow but seeing you now tells me that you have been without your dear sister's incredible influence for quite some time."   
  
"I have broken myself from her, yes," I told him. "I have found time to become an artist, although I am not very good-"   
  
"All accomplished ladies say that they are no good at what they do. You, an accomplished artist, declare that you cannot draw, Miss Darcy I am certain declares that she cannot play and Miss Mary - excuse me, Mrs. Casey - used to say that she could never sing when she was quite talented. That is the way with women."   
  
"And you have pondered this quite a bit?"   
  
"I have. I have known many young women who were all beautiful, intelligent and accomplished, but I must say, not one of them could ever compare..." He lifted my hand and bent over to kiss it, then glanced at me over the top of my hand. "...to you."   
  
"Oh, John, you make me blush," I said sarcastically, pulling my hand away. He stood erect and smiled, stepping even closer to me.   
  
"I have greatly missed your company, Catherine Bennet."   
  
"You sound like a fool in love! Tell me, how is it being a lawyer? Are you doing well?"   
  
"Perhaps I am, yes. I do believe you would know? Don't believe for a moment that I have never seen you sitting at my trials."   
  
"So you did notice me?"   
  
"Those colorful frocks you used to wear were certainly distracting, although I did lose them around April. Tell me, was that when you finally broke away from your silly fool of a sister?"   
  
"It does not matter when I changed, it just matters that I have."   
  
"Surely, not for me?"   
  
"Heavens, no! I had been wanting to escape Lydia's influence for so long and finally, something came along and forced me to make that change-"   
  
"And that was?"   
  
"Mr. Fairfax, you are quite adept at interrupting me when I am speaking."   
  
"Forgive me, Miss Bennet. What was it that forced you to change? I am eager to know. I shall thank the Lord for throwing that event in your way."   
  
"As I said before, it does not matter when or how, all that matters is that I have changed."   
  
"Oh, but I am quite interested to hear, my dear Miss Catherine Bennet."   
  
"Perhaps you ought to allow me to introduce you to Miss Darcy."   
  
"I do doubt Miss Darcy could ever be more enjoyable company than yourself, but if you insist."   
  
"Believe me, you will be eating humble pie for supper, John Fairfax." I led him to the centre of the ballroom searching for Georgiana, but she was nowhere to be found. After a minute of searching, I found her dancing a reel with a young gentleman whom I had never seen before, then glanced at Mr. Fairfax; he was looking in the opposite direction, towards the French doors. "It seems that she is dancing. Surely, we shall be able to catch her in a moment."   
  
"It shall be over soon," said Mr. Fairfax, his eyes on the French doors. I stood silently and watched Georgiana dance until the reel was over, then I left Mr. Fairfax's side to draw her attention.   
  
"Georgiana!" I called. Smiling and giggling, she turned to me and took both of my hands.   
  
"Oh, Catherine, I am having so much fun! I never thought a ball could be so much fun!" she said to me, and I smiled along with her.   
  
"I do believe they used to be so much more fun before, but I find myself enjoying them less now," I replied.   
  
"Oh, but you are eighteen and still unmarried! Surely, there is some fun you can have here!"   
  
"I'm afraid that as of late, I have been more interested in smaller company," I replied. "Come, take my hand; there is someone I would like you to meet." Taking my hand with a warm smile, she allowed me to lead her through the dispersing crowd and to where I had left Mr. Fairfax standing; he was nowhere to be seen. "Of course..."   
  
"Who is it that you would like me to meet, Catherine?" Georgiana asked, looking rather confused and I let out a sigh.   
  
"He is around here somewhere, I just haven't the slightest idea where. I hate that man. Truly, I hate him with a deep passion," I mumbled quietly, and Georgiana giggled.   
  
"Is it that strange man there by the column looking at us?" she asked, drawing my attention to a column near the French doors, where Mr. Fairfax was leaning against it with a smug look on his face.   
  
"That slug... Yes, that is him," I said, and I brought her over. "Georgiana, I would like to introduce you to an old friend of mine, Mr. John Fairfax of Hertfordshire. Mr. Fairfax, this is Miss Georgiana Darcy of Pemberley."   
  
"How do you do, madam?" he asked, taking her hand and bowing over it to bestow a kiss on it. She giggled and blushed, holding her hand there for as long as she could.   
  
"Very well, Mr. Fairfax, very well. I have been very much looking forward to meeting you ever since Miss Bennet told me of you," she said.   
  
"Truly, she could not have painted me so colourfully," said Mr. Fairfax, glancing at me with a smile.   
  
"Oh, but she has! She said you were quite handsome and charming," Georgiana replied, also glancing at me with a smile.   
  
"Tell me, Miss Darcy, have you the next dance available?" Mr. Fairfax asked after a brief moment of silence. "I do not do much dancing, but I have heard that dancing is one of the best ways to get to learn a woman's character."   
  
"It has been claimed, but I heard a rumour that the owner is off somewhere otherwise occupied," said Georgiana, blushing and glancing at her hands in front of her.   
  
"In that case, I shall be much obliged to take his place," said Mr. Fairfax rather boldly, then offered a hand to her. "May I claim this next set?"   
  
"Oh... Yes, I would be happy if you would," said Georgiana, and I watched as he led her back to the dance floor of the ballroom. While they took their places in the set, I crossed the room seeking a glass of wine, bumping into Lizzy in the process.   
  
"Kitty, there you are! Have you seen that young man dancing with Georgiana?" she asked me as she nonchalantly removed the wine glass from my hand.   
  
"Oh, yes. That is a young Mr. Fairfax," I replied, snatching it again gently and taking a sip from it.   
  
"I don't recall hearing of a Mr. Fairfax near Lambton or in all of Derbyshire," said Lizzy.   
  
"Derbyshire is a rather large country, Lizzy, and there are always new gentlemen coming and going. Perhaps he is new to the area?" I gave her a gentle smile; she returned it with a suspicious glance.   
  
"I don't recall placing a Mr. Fairfax on our guest list. Is he, perhaps, the same Mr. Fairfax from your childhood?"   
  
"Surely, not. That Mr. Fairfax despises me greatly."   
  
"Oh, but I've heard that you and this young Mr. Fairfax were having a very casual conversation not long ago. Surely, if you have never met this gentleman before, such a conversation would not be appropriate."   
  
"And putting two years between our last meeting and our next one also does not deem such a conversation appropriate, does it?"   
  
"Perhaps if you knew him very well and had for more years than not, it would be." I smiled gently and paused for a moment.   
  
"Georgiana was very eager to meet Mr. Fairfax after I had, one day, described him to her. She found herself intrigued by his nature and begged me to write to him asking him to come to the ball; this was a week past."   
  
"And did you?"   
  
"I wrote to him a brief letter and in that letter, I mentioned that I was in Derbyshire attending my sister's ball, which was to be held at Pemberley estate. I never once asked him to come, so he chose to come on his own free will. How he managed to get in, I shall never know, but I have always known John Fairfax to be a very sly and cunning man."   
  
"Then he is not safe for Georgiana. Get her away from him, please, or I shall have to tell Mr. Darcy-"   
  
"Mr. Fairfax, though sly and cunning, is no Mr. Wickham, Lizzy." I had cut her off abruptly and turned to her with a stern expression on my face. "This man I have known since boyhood and though he has a teasing and witty nature, he is a man with a noble heart and a high respect for women."   
  
"Does he know how much she is to inherit?"   
  
"No, and I know it would not alter his opinion of her in any way. Surely, he must already know that she is to inherit a large sum of money just from knowing that she is the sister of the man who owns this grand estate. He is no fool, Lizzy, and I shall thank you for not thinking him one."   
  
"If her feelings are hurt, Kitty, it is on you, and if she is upset and Mr. Darcy asks me why, I will not hesitate to tell him."   
  
"I understand completely," I replied. "If you'll excuse me, the set has finished and I shall meet them." I left Lizzy's company and rejoined Georgiana and Mr. Fairfax in the centre of the ballroom; Georgiana was beaming and Mr. Fairfax appeared a bit unfazed, but smiled.   
  
"If you'll both excuse me, I have promised my brother the next set," Georgiana said with a smile.   
  
"I shall await your company impatiently, Miss Darcy," said Mr. Fairfax with feigned interest, and she blushed as she rushed off to seek her brother in the crowd.   
  
"What is your impression of her?" I asked Mr. Fairfax.   
  
"Young and naive, perhaps more so even than you, Miss Bennet," he replied. "I do, however, think her to be a fine woman who speaks as if she has had an excellent education. She tells me she can read, write and speak French and that she can play the pianoforte fairly well; an accomplished woman, I believe she is. However, as I said before, she appears to be very naive. Something in the recent past has happened to her, although I know not what and it is no business of mine, and she was a bit reserved, although she did warm up to me. She sounds as if she has no understanding of the real world and how it works, as you and I have."   
  
"I suppose she wouldn't, seeing as how she has spent most of her life within these very walls," I replied as I looked around the ballroom.   
  
"You know not her impression of me, I suppose?"   
  
"No, and I shan't know until she speaks to me privately, although if she comes to me in confidence, then I cannot share her words with you."   
  
"Ah, yes, I understand." We both stood there silently for a moment. "Miss Bennet - Catherine - perhaps you could join me for a stroll through the garden?"   
  
"Through the garden? It is a bit cold, is it not?"   
  
"When we are out of doors, I shall happily lend you my coat, for in here, it would be rather inappropriate for me to remove my coat and place it on your shoulders."   
  
"John, please, I have no need-"   
  
"I insist, Catherine. Come, now, before this set ends and Miss Darcy seeks my company." Taking my arm, he led me outside through the French Doors and into the garden, where he removed his coat and placed it on my shoulders. "You women and your sheer dresses. I shall never understand the female mind. You dress to impress society, not for your own comfort."   
  
"In the company of my family, I will dress to suit my comfort, although at a ball, that is not socially acceptable," I replied. "Much like stealing a lady from the public eye and taking her for a private moonlit walk in the garden wrapped in your coat." He chuckled lightly at my comment as we walked side by side. "How is your family, John? Your mother and your father?"   
  
"Father still runs the blacksmith shop with a young lad from town and Mama still teaches at the school," said Mr. Fairfax. "They are very well indeed, and very happy. They are much more comfortable now that I provide a greater income than my father's shop or Mama's teaching, but they both love the activity too much to give it up."   
  
"I'm glad to hear," I said. After a moment, I spoke again. "Did you ever hear what happened to Mr. Soapseat?"   
  
"Catherine, please, can we not bring up that name-"   
  
"Do you or do you not know?"   
  
"I confess that I haven't a clue."   
  
"The town of Meryton rallied around him and brought together sufficient funds to pay off his debts. He was taken in by an aging spinster, Miss Yarrow, who nurtured him and cured him of his terrible drinking habit. They married and moved to London not too long after."   
  
"I'm glad to hear. That trial shames me even to this day."   
  
"The citizens of Meryton do not blame you, John, and they never did. I beg of you, please do not be so hard on yourself. They blame that horrid judge and that horrid Mr. Evans who knew nothing of Mr. Soapseat or how the citizens loved him so. It was never your fault." He was silent for several moments, his eyes cast down and his face practically unreadable, especially since it was lit only by the moonlight and only barely.   
  
"If the fault was not mine, then it certainly was not yours, Catherine. I apologise for shouting at you and blaming you-"   
  
"Shhh, John..." I stopped him and turned him to face me. "It is in the past, and I have long since forgiven you. Your words stuck with me for so long, yet I was still so afraid of Lydia - excuse me, Mrs. Wickham - and my mother's opinions of me that I did not make the change until..." I trailed off.   
  
"Until...?" It was my turn to cast my gaze downward as I contemplated my next thought.  _ Until the Colonel came to Longbourn _ , I finished in my head, although I could not compel myself to speak my thoughts for once. Mr. Fairfax had never met the Colonel, nor even knew of his presence at Longbourn. While the Colonel stayed at Longbourn, I barely went to any trials and when I did, I left the Colonel in the company of Papa or Jane and Mary.   
  
"Nothing," I finally said. "I beg of you not to concern yourself with it. All that matters is that I am no longer that silly frivolous thing I was when we last spoke."   
  
"Yes, I have noticed, and I admire you greatly for making that change," he said as he reached for my hands and held them, my palms against his. I watched him play with my hands silently, and he, too, had cast his eyes on them. Only when he felt my gaze on his eyes did they meet mine, and I swore I had never realized how blue his eyes were. This wasn't right. No, not even a little bit; this wasn't right at all. Mr. John Fairfax, to me, was no more than a friend and though I loved him once, I did not believe I could ever feel that way about him again. My affections for Mr. Fairfax had been replaced by my affections for Colonel Fitzwilliam, wherever he was at, and having Mr. Fairfax so close to me and caressing my hands as such was slightly disconcerting.   
  
"John..."   
  
"Shhh... Miss Catherine Bennet, I must say that you look most beautiful beneath the moonlight tonight." He slowly closed the gap between us, his face mere inches from the top of my forehead as I cast my gaze downward.   
  
"John, please..."   
  
"Catherine, I can hold my feelings in no longer. The longer I dam them up, the greater my pain increases and my barriers are breaking. Ever since we were children, I had found myself fascinated by you and your brilliant mind and your desire for learning. I envied you for your ability to pick up new words so quickly - quicker than me, even - and every night before I went to bed, I would study a book of words so that I may have the chance to impress you with fancy words the next day."   
  
"John..."   
  
"Hush, Catherine, I am not finished. As we grew older, I found you to be growing more and more beautiful as every day passed and when we last met, you were still such a young and childish thing. You had a girl's face and a girl's body and a girl's mind, but in these last two years, you have changed so much. In two years' time, you have gone from a frivolous flirting girl to a handsome and elegant woman-

“Two years? I’ve only been this way since April,” I interrupted, hoping to distract him.

  
“Don’t interrupt me,”  he said. “When I first saw you tonight, I did not recognise you, as a part of me refused to believe that you could have grown to be so beautiful. Look at me, Catherine." Though I hesitated and took a moment, I glanced up at him.   
  
Even in the moonlight, he looked so handsome. I could never deny that Mr. John Fairfax was one of the handsomest men of my acquaintance, if not the most handsome. He had such handsome features and he was so brilliant inside of his head. He was handsome inside and out and I envied him for it, wishing I could be more like him. He spoke again. "Catherine, I must declare that my heart is utterly devoted to you and you hold it in your very hands and have for many years now, although I never realised it until I saw you in that ballroom tonight. I must declare that I am completely entranced by your beauty and... And I love you, Catherine Bennet. I always have loved you, and perhaps I always will." At this, my eyes widened with shock and I realized then that his hands were on my waist instead of holding my hands; a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. "My darling Catherine, you are stunned into silence. Do allow me to prove to you my affections in actions."   
  
I was not prepared for the kiss he bestowed on my lips, nor was I prepared for the way he held me as he kissed me. His kisses were filled with passion and lust, emotions I would have never associated with Mr. John Fairfax in the past. Lord, could he kiss... Before I knew it, my own arms were wrapped around his neck and my eyes were closed as I returned his kiss with an equal amount of passion. I felt rather dizzy and could feel my legs slowly turning to mush beneath me; my head was clouded in a smoky white haze and I couldn't see nor hear anything. My senses had shut off completely and the entire world around us dissolved into nothing as John Fairfax deepened his kiss. After what felt like hours, but were mere moments, an image of the Colonel started to appear in my mind through the haze. He was reaching towards me it seemed, and his lips were moving in speech. I could not make out what it was that he was saying, although as more moments passed, I could finally hear it: "Miss Caty... Miss Caty... I still love you, my dear Caty... I still love you... I still love you..."   
  
I broke the kiss, ripped myself from his arms, recoiled and glanced around rapidly in fear of having being witnessed kissing Mr. Fairfax and his low chuckle startled me. "My dear Catherine, do not worry if we have been seen, for I have every intention of marrying you," he told me as he approached me again; I recoiled further into the hedge I was already backing into and he stopped, slightly confused. "Catherine..."   
  
"You have every intention of marrying me? Is that your proposal?" I asked, almost shocked. Did I miss the question? Had he even asked me? He chuckled again and his chuckle only angered me further.   
  
"Would you like me to ask properly?" He dropped down on one knee before me and took my hand in his. "My dear Miss Catherine Bennet, will you do me the honour of accepting my hand?"   
  
"Certainly not!" I cried, then looked around for other company before meeting his rather confused expression.   
  
"You... You're rejecting me?" he asked. "But the way you returned my kiss... You wanted it as much as I, Catherine, I could feel it in your kiss. What do you mean by 'certainly not'?"   
  
"I mean that I will 'certainly not' accept your hand. How much clearer does it have to be, sir?" I asked him, and he stood.   
  
"Might I ask the reason behind your uncivil response?"   
  
"You're one to talk about incivility, John Fairfax."   
  
"Answer my question, Catherine, please."   
  
"I am sorry to deny your hand, although I am very touched at your offer, sir, but I fear that... I fear that I am already spoken for." Silence came between us as he stared at me almost surprised, and that surprised me; John Fairfax was never surprised about anything. He took a moment to regain his composure, then chuckled.   
  
"You fear that you are already spoken for?"   
  
"I meant that I am already spoken for."   
  
"By whom, might I ask?"   
  
"A Colonel," I replied quickly, then scolded myself internally for my response. First of all, the Colonel had most certainly revoked his feelings for me after I had denied his proposal and then chased him far away from Pemberley. Secondly, Mr. Fairfax had ridiculed me in the past for chasing after soldiers and now would hold it above my head like a whip.   
  
"A Colonel, you say. Ah, Catherine Bennet, you've never tired of your soldiers, I see. Where is this Colonel? I would very much like to meet him."   
  
"He is more than just a colonel, John. He is a viscount, too, and he is away at the moment."   
  
"How can a viscount be a colonel?" His chuckling was starting to irritate me.   
  
"He is the younger son of Lord Matlock and only recently inherited the title of viscount upon the recent death of his elder brother."   
  
"In that case, my deepest sympathies go to him at the loss of his brother, although inheriting such a title is quite a comfort, no?" He chuckled again, then stepped away from me. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Bennet, I do believe that I am to entertain young Miss Darcy for the evening, as you have placed that duty on me. If we shall cross paths again in the future, perhaps then I can meet your viscount Colonel." With that said, he began to leave, then stopped and turned to face me again. "We could have been a marvelous match, Miss Bennet. We understand each other, you and I, and think very much alike. It is quite a shame that you are already spoken for." With his final words spoken, he claimed his coat from my shoulders and departed my company, and as I watched him leave, I felt the tears leaking from my eyes.   


* * *

_ I spent an hour in the garden contemplating the events that had happened earlier this evening, then put on my best face and entered the ballroom again. By then, it was well past midnight and dances were still going on, guests were still laughing and mingling and everything was continuing as if a disaster had not just occurred in the garden outside. My mind was buzzing, still, from John's kiss and I did not see him for a half hour. When I finally did see him, he sent a glance my way and met my eyes, which I then responded to by running from the ballroom hiding tears and only allowing them to spill after I had locked myself in my bedchamber. I then proceeded to undress myself, take down my hair, untie all of the ribbons and collapse on my bed in my chemise and corset to cry into the pillow. I lay there for several hours until about a half hour ago, when I left my bed to sit down and write this entry. I suppose I have dated it wrong, for it is no longer Saturday, the thirtieth of October. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It is now Sunday, the thirty-first of October and has been for several hours. Dawn has come and gone and the morning sun is now shining through my window; my candle has dwindled down to nothing. Soon, I should be expected to turn up at the breakfast table, although perhaps I will fake an illness of some type - a headache or a stomachache - and try to sleep a little. I doubt I will, but I know Georgiana will want to tell me all about her evening with Mr. John Fairfax and for her sake, I want to at least look interested. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Yours, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Catherine Bennet _


	18. 10 November 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The winter of 1813 - 1814 comes early. Catherine, while sketching the scenery, speaks with Madge about the Colonel and his feelings for Catherine. Catherine realises she still has his handkerchief. Madge writes a letter to her deceased husband reflecting her thoughts on Catherine and the Colonel's relationship.

_Wednesday, 10 November 1813_   
  
_The seasonal clock is ticking away and winter is arriving much earlier than previously thought. It is known that winter is not scheduled for a visit until December, but we are only ten days into November and winter is standing before our door. Lizzy, now, is in no condition to be out of doors to protect her child, over which Mr. Darcy has been fussing over continuously. He has been out of town, as of late, and in London._   
  
_Today, I developed a friendship with Mrs. Fitzwill_ **_(scratched)_ ** _Madge, whom has been trying to develop one with me ever since she first arrived, and it became so while I was sketching out of doors and she decided to join me..._

* * *

The air felt like a blanket of ice, creeping into every space between my skin and my clothing and chilling me right down to the core. No matter how tightly I pulled my coat around me, I still froze and my gloves were hardly any protection for my hands, especially when the wind picked up. I ignored it for the sake of escaping the walls of Pemberley, in which I had been trapped for a week. I had brought out a smaller sketchbook in hopes of sketching an outline of the slumbering trees to paint over with watercolour in my bedchamber when I heard footsteps crunching the frozen grass behind me. I did not turn, a part of me hoping against hope that it was the Colonel and not wanting to be disappointed, but then I recognized the footsteps to be lighter. While I had been having those thoughts, I saw a mass of black seat itself beside me on the bench that I had claimed and I looked to my left to meet the eyes of Mrs. Fitzwilliam.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Fitzwilliam," I said as I returned my gaze to my sketch.   
  
"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet. Your sister said that you might be found here," she replied.   
  
"Did she?" I replied shortly, my right hand ruining the lines of the trees in my sketch; I let out a sigh as I wet the handkerchief in my hand with my tongue and rubbed away the mess.   
  
"R.F.," muttered Mrs. Fitzwilliam, her gaze at the handkerchief in my hand. "Is that my brother's handkerchief?"   
  
"Hm?" I asked, turning to her with a confused expression on my face. She reached over and took the handkerchief from me, unfolding it and examining it; in the lower left corner stitched in bright red were the initials 'R.F.', which stood for Richard Fitzwilliam. I stared at the handkerchief in her hands and took it, my thumb running over the Colonel's initials. When had he given me this? I thought back a moment, then remembered that he had given it to me on a rainy day months ago when I had lost my own handkerchief. 'Take it, Miss Caty, and you may keep it if you like,' he'd said to me, and suddenly, I felt warm tears stinging my frozen face.   
  
"Don't you cry, dear. He will return soon. He always does, my brother. And if 'soon' does not mean within a fortnight, then he will at least write to Mother. He doesn't like to worry her and will surely contact us soon, Miss Bennet," she said as she pulled me into an embrace to comfort me.   
  
"I just don't understand," I said between tears. "It has been so hard... We've both done so much harm to each other and I am the sole reason he left us!"   
  
"That isn't true! That isn't true at all, Miss Bennet," she replied.   
  
"Oh, but it is," I said as I pulled from the embrace and dabbed at my eyes with the Colonel's handkerchief. "We got into an argument before he left - a terrible argument - and I said some things I didn't mean and he left."   
  
"That isn't at all true, Miss Bennet. That is not what he told me."   
  
"It is not some military thing like he said, it is because of me."   
  
"Military thing? What are you talking about?" I looked at her with yet another perplexed expression. "He told me that he has broken your heart. He said that what he has done to you was unforgivable and that he deserves no kindness from you as he had at first expected. He has said that he needed to allow you your space and remove himself yet again from your presence."   
  
"But where is the fairness in that? It was I who invaded his family home, not him. This is the home that his family has owned for much longer than my family has been tied to it. It was I that should have left, not him."   
  
"I do believe that he will return. When, I am not quite sure of, but he will. He cannot stay away from you forever, Miss Bennet. How could he stay away when he refers to you as 'his Catherine'?" I paused a moment, removing my face from my palms and turning to her.   
  
"He... He truly has said that?" Mrs. Fitzwilliam nodded.   
  
"He loves you, dear. But be patient with him because you are quite right; you have hurt him, too. He will come back for you."   
  
"For the sake of yourself and Lady Matlock, I hope you are right. I am not going to selfishly await him to come and expect him to throw himself at my feet and beg me for forgiveness. I was so wrong to treat him as I did, and if he were wise, he would not return for me at all."   
  
"Ah, but love makes fools of us all, Miss Bennet. It has made him a great one." I smiled gently, looking down at the Colonel's handkerchief in my hand.   
  
"I never realized that he never truly left me... I was so busy being blinded by my own foolishness to understand. But never the matter. I trust your word and if he is to return, then I shall eagerly await his arrival." I turned my gaze to her and met her smiling face, then dropped my smile when she stifled a giggle behind her black gloved hand. "What?"   
  
"My dear, you have charcoal beneath your eye," she said, and I started to laugh as well as she took my cheek in her palm and rubbed the charcoal away with her thumb. 

* * *

_It seems that Madge and I have a much better understanding now that we have discussed what has been on our minds for so long. It was necessary, I believe, and when the Colonel does return, he will find that his sister and I are as close as sisters may be, even though she is so much older than I - older, even, than the Colonel himself._   
  
_Another letter arrived from Mrs. Finch and Lady Matlock read it aloud to myself and Madge through tears. Mrs. Finch was very ill, and she believed that the letter in Lady Matlock’s hands would be her last as of one month ago. Lady Matlock was inconsolable, as she was certain that, by now, her daughter was long deceased and cold in the ground. We tried our best to console her, but to no prevail._   
  
_After supper tonight, Mr. Fairfax asked if I would accompany him on a walk tomorrow, although I am not sure I ought to after what happened in the garden. I told him I would consider it, but perhaps I will ask Madge or Georgiana to accompany us._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

_Wednesday, 10 November 1813_   
  
_To my dearest Timothy,_   
  
_You have been gone from this world for three months now, and my heart has been empty with loneliness ever since you departed my side. If only I could have given you an heir, but never the matter. I have so much to tell you, even though I am well aware that you will never read this letter._   
  
_As far as Mother and I are aware, dear Lucy will be joining your side soon, if she has not already. Her letters have been sporadic as of late and we worry that she has already passed and that news will reach us of her passing within the coming days. Mother is prepared for the news to arrive, but I fear she can never be as prepared to hear news of the passing of her daughter as she believes herself to be. A bit of good news is that her dear son is faring well; it seems that God has been blessed with a heart and is allowing him to stay with us a little longer._   
  
_Our dear Richard has been absent from us for nearly a month now and we have heard no word from him. Mother is worried for him too, but there have been times when she has not heard from him in months when he was with the militia. He left us in fear of further distressing a beautiful and sweet young girl by the name of Catherine Bennet, whom everyone here at Pemberley is well aware of his affections for her, and she very much returns them. They have hurt each other so much, Timothy - you would be ashamed at what he has done to this poor sweet lady. After discussing this with our cousin, Fitzwilliam, I have come to sympathize with Miss Bennet. Her actions have been harsh, but they were due to the insult that our brother has brought upon her._   
  
_Miss Bennet has grown up so much since she has been here at Pemberley. Upon our first meeting, she was just a girl who treated all who had some sort of relationship with our brother as if they had committed the same crime, but now, she is so much more mature. Perhaps when Richard courted her, the love she felt for him made a fool out of her as it did him, or perhaps she still had not yet grown out of her silly ways. I have spoken to our cousin, Elizabeth, about how Miss Bennet was before Richard entered her life and she was a silly, frivolous and flirtatious girl that shadowed her younger sister. When we first met, I saw a small piece of that girl in Miss Bennet, but looking at her now, I see that Miss Bennet has abolished any semblance of that girl. Whenever Richard returns, he will see that the girl he left behind has grown into a very fine woman that will, someday, make a very fine Countess to Richard's Count._   
  
_I do hope that you are watching over dear Lucy and Richard, my Timothy, for they both need your assistance and your guidance._   
  
_Your beloved wife,_   
_  
Madge Fitzwilliam_


	20. 11 November 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine, Mr. Fairfax and Georgiana go for a walk and play in the snow. Mr. Fairfax expresses his feelings and opinions towards Georgiana.

_Thursday, 11 November 1813_   
  
_I am smiling like a fool as I write this now, and it is not because the Colonel has returned. If he had, my handwriting would be illegible, as I would be far too thrilled to properly take time to write this entry tonight._   
  
_Today was a grand day, and I believe that our family will soon be blessed with another happy marriage..._

* * *

I awoke early on the morning of the eleventh day of November remembering that Mr. Fairfax had requested a private conversation with me. I dreaded his arrival at Pemberley for the day, as I was certain he would seek me out as soon as he did arrive, and that was exactly what he did. Georgiana and I were having tea in the parlour when he was announced to us and after he bowed to us, he looked me in the eye and said, "Miss Bennet, I request a word with you."  
  
"I'm afraid we'll have to be chaperoned," I replied once I had glanced at the perplexed expression on Georgiana's face. "The roof we are under is not ours and the rules are different here. Georgiana, would you care to accompany us?"   
  
"Most certainly!" she said cheerfully. "Allow me to fetch my coat and my gloves; I shall return in a moment." She curtseyed as she left, and I stood to follow her.   
  
"Catherine-" Mr. Fairfax began as I passed him.   
  
"Be patient, John. I have to fetch my coat as well. You have just been out of doors yourself and truly, you know how biting the cold is," I replied, and I left the room to fetch my own coat. When I returned, Georgiana and Mr. Fairfax were awaiting me in the parlour deep in discussion, and we departed for our walk.   
  
I was not sure how it escaped my notice, but in the night, the sky had laid out a blanket of snow as deep as our ankles and I was thankful for my choice of footwear as we stepped into it. The footprints that Mr. Fairfax had left when he arrived were half filled by the snowflakes that continued to flutter down upon our heads, and Georgiana was fascinated by the floating flakes. She looked beautiful dancing around in the snow, and one glance at Mr. Fairfax's profile told me that he believed the same. The once green trees were now white and the once clear blue sky was grey with puffy white clouds that dropped each snowflake; the air was chilly, but the scene before us was inviting.   
  
"If I had known the scenery were to be so beautiful, I would have brought my sketchbook along," I said.   
  
"You might have included Miss Darcy's cheerful figure, perhaps," said Mr. Fairfax, his eyes glued to her figure. I let out a light chuckle.   
  
"You seem entranced by young Miss Darcy," I replied, and he turned his attention to me. "She is not much younger than I, perhaps slightly older than Mrs. Wickham."   
  
"But she is nothing like Mrs. Wickham or many other young girls of her kind," said Mr. Fairfax, returning his gaze to Georgiana. "She has a free spirit and a fascination with little things. She talks with passion of the beauty of music and nature, something most women have not a care for."   
  
"Is she the topic of which you wished to discuss with me?" I asked him, and he paused for a moment.   
  
"She told me of your courtship with your Colonel. Of how it seemed to end rather abruptly, but nearly resumed only a month ago. Catherine, if you are spoken for, why have I not heard of him from you in so long?"   
  
"The story is extensive and painful to tell, John." He looked at me.   
  
"Has he done you harm?"   
  
"'Twas I who did him further harm. Do not concern yourself with my affairs, John. What of Miss Darcy?"   
  
"What of her?" He turned his attention to her. "She glistens with vivacity, with innocent youth and with naivety, but she has a desire to learn the ways of the world. She's asked me to tell her stories of my life, of my apprenticeship with my blacksmith father and of stories my mother told me of Wales. For a girl of such means, she is very interested in the life I have lived."   
  
"You know of her dowry, then?"   
  
"She has not mentioned it, but upon acquainting myself with Pemberley, I have found that her dowry must be significant."   
  
"Does that alter your opinion of her in any way?"   
  
"Of course not, Catherine. I live comfortably and am happy with how I live and what I do. A few more pounds could hurt no man, but I fear I would have no concept of what I could do with such wealth. Perhaps send my sons to school and have them become more successful lawyers than I ever could be."   
  
"Don't say that, John. You are a grand lawyer, and self-taught. You would make a grand Prime Minister." He chuckled lightly.   
  
"Your flattery was more useful to me at the ball, Catherine." A moment passed between us.   
  
"So do you then revoke your feelings for me, John?"   
  
"Catherine, I cannot see you signing your name on letters as Mrs. Catherine F-"   
  
"Catherine, Mr. Fairfax, come join me, won't you? The snow is so divine and beautiful!" Georgiana cried to us, interrupting our conversation. I was only partially irritated, as I was not sure if he had meant he could not see me as Mrs. Fairfax or Mrs. Fitzwilliam.   
  
"I fear all enjoyment I have ever had with snow, Miss Darcy, is a few snowballs and snowmen," Mr. Fairfax replied.   
  
"A few what?" asked Georgiana, perplexed.   
  
"Are you informing me that you have never made a snowball in all of your life?" asked Mr. Fairfax, approaching her.   
  
"I'm afraid not, sir," Georgiana confessed, embarrassed. "My brother never allowed me to frolic in the snow as I have just now."   
  
"Your brother must be a stickler for enjoyment," replied Mr. Fairfax, bending down  to pick up a handful of snow in his gloved hands. He rolled it into a ball, and placed it into Georgiana's eager hands.   
  
"What can I do with it?" she asked innocently, and Mr. Fairfax chuckled. I saw him whisper something in her ear and she giggled lightly, and when I wasn't paying attention, I felt the cold ball of ice slip between my coat and my neck and while I screeched in surprise, I heard Mr. Fairfax and Georgiana laughing.   
  
"I beg of you not to tell my brother!" Georgiana cried with delight as she reached down to pick up another handful of snow. We brought our snowball fight into the woods to conceal ourselves from any prying eyes as we ran about like children with snowballs flying through the air hitting trees or one of us. As Georgiana ran, she slipped on a patch of ice on the path that ran through the trees, but Mr. Fairfax took two strides to reach her side and caught her before she fell. The glisten of affection in his eyes as Georgiana smiled at him told me that earlier, he had meant that he could not see me signing my letters as Mrs. Catherine Fairfax, perhaps because he could only imagine Georgiana signing hers as Mrs. Georgiana Fairfax. 

* * *

_After we had retreated inside from the cold and changed out of our wet clothing, Mr. Fairfax joined Georgiana for a duet on the pianoforte in the parlour, where their voices reverberated around the room flawlessly. Mr. Fairfax has always had a grand voice, but paired with Georgiana's, the two of them were well in sync. I glanced over at Lizzy and Mr. Darcy during the duet and saw that both were very pleased. It seemed that Lizzy trusted that Georgiana and Mr. Fairfax were a grand match, although I was certain that Mr. Darcy still had his doubts, which was evident from his eyes. All he wanted was for his sister to be happy, which I could understand, although I am certain that, after today's conversation, Mr. Fairfax would do anything in his power to make Georgiana happy. Oh, if only the Colonel were here to see how joyously happy his cousin was!_   
  
_Yours,_   
_  
Catherine Bennet_


	21. 15 November 1813 - Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine writes a letter to the Colonel expressing her love for him, with no intent of sending it.

_Monday, 15 November 1813_   
  
_To my dear Colonel,_   
  
_You have been absent from my life for far too long, and I know it was because I was a stupid fool who chased you away. Oh, how I wish I could take back those horrific words, but I know that I cannot. You are probably terrified to step foot under the same roof as me and I cannot blame you; what I said to you was horrific and unforgivable while you were only trying to be so kind. I have no excuse to justify my behaviour, as I should not have acted the way I did so long after your insulting proposal. Looking back now, your proposal was hardly as insulting as I believed it to be. Yes, commenting on my family's financial status was unnecessary, but so was my reaction. I should have been patient with you, as you warned me of your poor communication skills. I deeply apologise for what I have done to you._   
  
_I am so lonely without you, my dear Colonel. I no longer sleep through the night because I dream of you and of the sweet memories we share. I awaken in the night and find that you are not by my side, nor anywhere near my side, and I spend the rest of the evening in tears knowing that you are not mine and perhaps never shall be. I miss your company and the friendship you have offered me, I miss sitting you down and sketching you, talking for hours on end of whatever topic interests us at the time, I miss your presence around me and I miss the gentle touch of the small of your arm in my hand. My Colonel, my heart is breaking even further with every moment we spend apart and I beg of you to please come back to me - take me into your arms and hold me and tell me you love me, and bestow upon my lips a gentle kiss that will soon turn passionate._   
  
_I dream of our last meeting very often. I wonder if, when you took me into your arms, you were going to kiss me. As improper as it is thinking of your lips upon mine, I dream of sharing a passionate kiss with you. I dream of holding you, of running my fingers through your handsome hair and trailing a finger down your handsome face; I love you, my Colonel, more than God could wish his creations would love one another. I would abandon all that I have now and go to the ends of the earth for you if I had to and there isn't one thing in the world that could stop me. Do you love me as your dear sister says you do? If you do, then why don't you write? Please, my Colonel, one word from you is all I need to have even a glimmer of hope. If you do not want me any longer, then tell me so so that I may die in peace, as I feel I might if I do not see you again._   
  
_The days are so cold now, Colonel. The weather is numbing, but my days are cold and lonely because I do not have you by my side. I am starting to repeat myself now, aren't I? There's just so much I want to tell you and so little space to do it. Georgiana is in a happy courtship with a man of my acquaintance that I have introduced to her, and Mr. Darcy seems to be growing a fondness for him. You would adore him, too, I believe, for the gentleman is a very good man although he might seem bold. And Lizzy is expecting a child early next summer - Mr. Darcy is so delighted for him! My sisters are all married and we have heard news that Jane, who is now Mrs. Bingley, is expecting her first child, too. We have not heard word from Mary yet, but last we heard, she was in Paris with her Mr. Casey. Every member of this family has had grand things happen to them, except for me. I have lost my only love and any chance of reconciling with him, and that man is you, Colonel._   
  
_I wish I had the courage to send you this letter, and if I did, I wish I had your location so that I may give it to you. Come to me, Colonel, I beg of you; come to me! I can feel my heart and any emotions it has left dying slowly, and I fear that soon, there will be none left. Come to me, please, my Colonel - my Richard - and mend my poor broken heart._   
  
_Yours forever,_   
_  
Catherine Bennet_


	22. 19 - 30 November 1813 - Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Georgiana expresses her affection for Mr. Fairfax in her own journal entries. Captain Henry Finch writes to Lady Matlock about the death of Mrs. Lucy Finch.

_Friday, 19 November 1813_   
  
_Diary,_   
  
_Today has been a wonderful day! Mr. Fairfax is truly a wonderful man and everything like Catherine said! I do wonder if he will propose to me... What of my dowry does he know? Does he know that upon marriage to me, he is to inherit thirty thousand pounds? I fear telling him in worry that he will marry my dowry instead of me, but at the same time, I want to be completely honest with him. But never mind that right now, I must write down today's events!_   
  
_Mr. Fairfax arrived at Pemberley in a sleigh today and asked that I join him for a ride! Of course, my brother wanted us chaperoned, so he had asked Catherine to join us. Dear Catherine has had such a heavy heart lately, and I am sure it has to do with my cousin's absence, and we thought escaping Pemberley for a short while might do her some good. She spent the entire ride staring out at the trees and not paying attention to Mr. Fairfax and I, so Mr. Fairfax stole a light kiss from my lips! It was nothing like the kisses I had been dreaming of, but it was a kiss nonetheless! I do hope that, if he plans to propose, he does it soon! Catherine did not see that small kiss we shared._   
  
_There is still no word from my dear cousin, nor is there word from Mrs. Finch in America. I very much worry for both of them, and for Catherine's sake, I do hope that my dear cousin, Richard, will write to us soon or, perhaps better, return to us here at Pemberley. Dear Catherine has been so distraught without her Colonel; I am certain that she is terribly in love with him._   
  
_Yours,_   
  
_Georgiana Darcy_   
****

* * *

**{this letter arrived at Pemberley on 30 November, 1813}**   
  
_Thursday, 21 October 1813_   
  
_Dear Lady Matlock,_   
  
_Dear mother, my days have grown shorter and nights have lost their stars, for on this very afternoon, my dear Lucy Finch had departed this world with a high fever and violent cough. It is hard for me to write this very letter, but I know it must be done. I know that news will not reach you until much too late. By the time you receive this letter, our dear Lucy will be cold in her grave a month. The physician declared her cause of death to be the consumption, and I must say that the horrific tales of what the consumption does to its victims are very true._   
  
_Our son is well; it seems that Henry has been blessed with a long and healthy life thus far. I hope that now, Lucy may watch over him and maintain his long and healthy life. I wish you could see him, dear mother, for he looks so much like our Lucy. I thank you for the time I had with her. I must close this letter, for I now have affairs to tend to concerning my wife. I hope to one day see you soon._   
  
_Your loyal son,_   
_  
Captain H. Finch_


	23. 3 December 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine is involved in an accident involving a frozen pond and is lucky to be saved by the only person who ever could truly save her, but an illness overtakes her.

It was the third day of December - a Friday - in the year 1813. The snow on the ground was thick and icy, but the temperature was not as low as it could be perceived to be. There was a biting chill in the breeze, by not necessarily the air itself. The trees were snow capped and icicles draped like cobwebs from every branch; the dark brown trunks of the trees contrasted against the white of the snowy scene, giving off the impression that the forest was far more vast and open than it truly was. The fountains, which had been turned off upon the flight of the first leaf from the trees, were now frozen puddles in stone basins; the grass had long since frozen over and the gravel paths were hidden by snow that was deep enough to reach Catherine Bennet's knees.   
  
She trudged through the snow, eager to escape the wailing and moaning that filled Pemberley with despair. Yes, she was terribly sorry to hear about the loss of Mrs. Finch and was sympathetic, but she had never known Mrs. Finch and therefore, could find no reason to mourn any further than she already had. That, and after months of peace and quiet without Mrs. Wickham's squeals and complaints, she could no longer stand the sounds that dear Lady Matlock and Mrs. Fitzwilliam were emitting. She cared very deeply for Lady Matlock and Mrs. Fitzwilliam, but after so much despair and misery, Catherine needed time to herself. She brought her sketchbook along in hopes of sketching a winter scene to paint over with watercolours.   
  
The scene she came upon in the middle of the woods was ideal. There was a clearing where the sun shined brilliantly and warmly on a summer day onto a large pond teaming with all kinds of life - vegetation, fish, waterfowl and the likes. Large rocks populated the edges and frozen, snow-covered cattails awaited for the first sign of spring to awaken once more. The pond had frozen over and Catherine could not see down into its depths, so she sat down on a large rock and began to sketch. As she was around no company, she sketched with her left hand, the Colonel's handkerchief bunched up in her right. She sketched for two hours, numb to the cold, and when she tired of sketching, she stood and walked to the pond's edge.   
  
It looked to be shallow and the ice looked to be thick, and the air felt to be cold enough to maintain the thickness of the ice. She glanced around her at all the trees, sensing a nearby presence watching her - a deer, she concluded, or a snowy owl that she was unable to see. She had brought with her two metal skates in case she were to happen upon a frozen pond or lake such as this one. As she sat on the rock tying the skates to her boots, she thought she heard the sound of footsteps heavier than a deer's hooves crunching on the snow as if they were walking away, but she brushed it off; she wanted to skate and skating she would do.    
  
She took her first step onto the ice and wobbled at first, but regained her balance quickly. She took it one shuffle at a time, first skating around the perimeter of the pond and then gravitating towards the center of it. Snowflakes had started to fall and on the ice and she danced in between them, spinning in circles and giggling with happy sighs at her own actions. This had been the first time she had truly laughed and smiled since the Colonel had left, and she was overjoyed to be truly enjoying herself. She felt terrible for laughing while the rest of her family mourned, but at the same time, she felt that, after months of such loneliness and heartbreak, she had earned the right to enjoy herself at least once.   
  
She was gliding on the ice, and when she closed her eyes, her elegant gliding turned into flying when she held out her arms like wings. Ah, to be above all things that cause such pain. A bird is so free of all things - of harm, of heartbreak, of melancholy thoughts. All a bird has going for it is how well it sings. It is supposed that nature in itself is like a competition - no, everything is like a competition. Regardless of the subject, all things living and not living have a certain set of rules that it must abide by; what goes up must always come down. Nothing is ever free; not birds, not dogs, not boulders, not grass, not flowers, not trees, not even air. Nor the ice beneath Catherine Bennet's skates. All it took was a loud crack, and that was the end of that.   


* * *

An hour passed, and the remaining residents of Pemberley sat in the parlour in silence, save for the crackling of the fire and Lady Matlock's sniffles. No activities were performed by any of them - Mr. Darcy sat in silence and stared at the crackling fire, Mrs. Darcy watched her husband's every move, Miss Georgiana Darcy watched the fluttering snowflakes outside of the window piling up against the windowpanes, Mrs. Fitzwilliam stared at the floor with her hands in her lap, and Lady Matlock dabbed at her eyes with a dampened handkerchief, creating the only movement in the room besides the grand clock above the mantle and the dancing flames of the fire. All was stiff and dripped with despair, all feelings of happiness having melted away.   
  
The silence was sliced in two by the sound of heavy boots pounding on the floor down the corridor, followed by muffled cries. All residents of the room turned their attention to the door and tried to make out the voice - the words that were being screamed down the corridor - and it took a moment to make out the words, 'Help! Help! Miss Bennet has had an accident, help!' It was a man's voice, and upon the first clear pronunciation of the words, Mr. Darcy stood and the grand parlour doors were kicked open to reveal a snow-covered Colonel Fitzwilliam carrying a damp, pale, frozen and unconscious Catherine Bennet. "Help me, please!" cried the Colonel in desperation, carrying Catherine Bennet's limp form to the fire as all residents of the room, save for Lady Matlock, crowded around.   
  
"Richard! What's happened?" Mr. Darcy demanded as the Colonel sat by the fire with Catherine in his lap and his coat and arms wrapped tightly around her.   
  
"I'm not entirely sure, but I was walking in the woods and I happened upon her lying on the bank of the pond in nothing but a soaked coat. I assumed she'd fallen in through the ice and crawled out to rest on the banks, but I've no idea how long she lay there," said the Colonel quickly, turning his attention to the limp form in his arms. "Catherine! My Catherine, can you hear me? I beg of you!"   
  
"Is she still alive?" asked Mrs. Darcy, her voice filled with fright and worry.   
  
"Just barely, but enough for me to continue coaxing her to hold on," said the Colonel, his own voice cracking from an oncoming storm of tears from fright.   
  
"I'll ride into town and fetch the physician. Keep her warm, Richard!" cried Mr. Darcy as he raced from the room as fast as his legs could carry him.   
  
"We must get her out of these wet clothes, brother!" said Mrs. Fitzwilliam. "Come and carry her to her bedchamber; Mrs. Darcy will have the servants light a fire and Georgiana can assist me in dressing her." As Mrs. Darcy left the room upon Mrs. Fitzwilliam's statement, the Colonel lifted his whole world and carried her up two flights of stairs, following his sister-in-law to Catherine Bennet's bedchamber. He lay her on the bed as the servants left the room after starting a fire in the fireplace and held her cold and pale face in his hands.   
  
"My dearest Catherine, please, stay with me! I came back! For you, I came back and I've already lost my brother and my sister. I cannot lose you, too," he moaned into her hair. Mrs. Fitzwilliam placed a hand on his shoulder.   
  
"Dear brother, I understand that, if she survives this, you will have every intention of marrying her, but for now, I must ask that you leave us so I may dress her," she said.   
  
"I'm not leaving her side," said the Colonel defiantly.   
  
"Brother-"   
  
"I'm not leaving her side!"   
  
"But Richard, her reputation-"   
  
"Reputations be damned! She'll be a countess, and everyone in this room would not breathe a word!"   
  
"Richard!" It was Lady Matlock this time, standing in the doorway. The Colonel turned to face his mother, and stood from the bed. "You will do nothing to tarnish the reputation of that kind young lady. You will court her in due time, properly, and propose to her with her father's blessing and marry her within all realms of propriety. You must allow Miss Bennet to be tended to for it is her life in your hands." A moment of silence passed in the room, the sound of the crackling fire reverberating throughout the room.   
  
"Yes... Yes, of course, Mother," said the Colonel, and he turned to Catherine on the bed, leaning down beside her ear to whisper, "Stay strong, my Catherine. I will always be right outside your door." With those final words spoken, the Colonel got his last glimpse of young Catherine Bennet before the door closed behind him, throwing him into a cold, dark and agonizing world where seconds passed like hours, and hours like days.


	24. 5 December 1813

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Colonel reflects on his emotions during the early days of Catherine's illness.

_Sunday, 5 December 1813_   
  
_To myself,_   
  
_Two days have passed since my Catherine fell into the pond and she is none the better. I have not seen her since, but the expressions on the faces of Mrs. Darcy, Georgiana and Madge do not change. Darcy has taken my mother home to our Matlock Estate to be with my father in their time of mourning and I mourn my dear beloved sister as well, but I have been in the militia for so long. I had seen so many deaths - horrific ones, violent ones, morbid ones and devastating ones - and have come to accept death as simply a part of life. What else could it be? I had my time of mourning, when I travelled to the western coast of the English Isle in hopes of hearing news of my dear sister and the news devastated me. Dear Lucy was so young, and a new mother; she did not deserve the horrific fate that was brought upon her, but she went peacefully. There are many others - boys even younger than her - that have died more horrific deaths, which I am certain she had come to learn, being the husband of a Captain._   
  
_I could not bear the pain of being away from my Catherine any longer than I already had. Her words had been harsh, but I knew - after the encounter, of course - that they were only her defence to protect her broken heart. She confessed that she had been in love with me upon my insulting proposal and her eyes told of the embers of affection that were still glowing, but had simply died down. I believed from then on that my darling love could learn to love me again, once she had broken down the walls that she had built around her fragile heart. I should have been more careful; she is so much younger than I and I far more experienced with the world than she. I should have known better. She had been sheltered all her life and I acted the uncivil fool and oafishly dropped her poor fragile heart not once, but twice._   
  
_I cannot lose my love. I have already lost my brother and my sister and suffering the loss of my dear Catherine would lead to the world's loss of me. When I saw her lying there on the bank of the pond... Her lips were nearly blue and her face was so pale. Her hair had crystals of ice in it and her clothes were freezing to her body. Any part of her that had been wet from when she fell into the pond had frozen over and she had been unconscious for quite some time. I rushed to carry her to safety and I feared that I was too late - I still fear that I was. My thoughts shall be put to rest upon hearing news from Mrs. Darcy, from Georgiana or from Madge on her condition, but as far as I can tell, no progress has been made. My Catherine is very ill, and the physician has told me that he worries she will not survive the week._   
  
_All my strength goes to my darling Catherine - I will happily take her place if I were granted the opportunity. She is so young and fragile that I fear she has not the strength to pull through. But I will not leave her side, if I can help it. Never again am I leaving my Catherine's side._   
  
_Yours and forever Catherine's,_   
_  
Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_


	25. 24 December 1813 - The Colonel's Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Colonel writes a letter to Catherine expressing his feelings for her.

_Friday, 24 December 1813_   
  
_To my dearest Catherine,_   
  
_It is Christmas Eve and you have hardly woken from your slumber. My fears grow stronger as the hours pass and the expressions on the faces of Pemberley's women do not change. It is cold - horribly cold and the sun has not shined since you fell into the pond, nor have the clouds parted. I wanted to keep a daily journal to display your recovery, but after three days of no change, I tore the pages from my book and allowed them to burn. You are sick with something similar to the Gripp or pneumonia, or something else of the likes. When Mrs. Darcy explained it to me, I could not bear to hear. I thought of you and how, for nearly a month, you have suffered in your bedchamber hardly able to move._   
  
_Mrs. Darcy, Georgiana and Madge have all said you are feverish and have been drifting in and out of consciousness for weeks now. They say that when you are conscious, you mutter things that are incomprehensible to their ears, until they approach you, upon which you declare that 'it is no use'. Madge, too, has told me of the conversations you have had with her concerning me and I must ask, did your worries concern me? Was it I that you called for? If only I could, I would run to your side and be with you through this hard time and offer you any strength that I possibly could. I am able to stand the deaths of many a young man at war, of my feverish brother and my ill sister, but your death I know I cannot stand. My darling love, if you recover, I have every intention of making you my bride and I declare that I must depart this world before you - you are much stronger than I, in that sense, for I cannot live in this world without you._   
  
_I do not know what more I can put in this letter. I fear that the physician is correct in his prediction that you will not see the end of the year, but I pray to whatever God we have to spare your kind life. I understand that good people are placed on this world for a short time until they have completed their purpose, but perhaps you would be granted more time if I were to stray from the kindness you have done me. What I want is for you to live forever, my dear one, even if it means that I must depart from your life. I would hide myself away on the most remote of islands to spare your life, if that is what it would take to keep you alive. Dear Catherine, I love you more than anything deemed capable of loving. I love you more than God loves his children, than a mother loves her babe, than a child loves its toys and Sarah Siddons loves performing. You are my one and only and a part of my very heart and soul. Upon your awakening and departure from your bedchamber, my first question for you will be if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife._   
  
_But would you, Catherine, my love? After all the harm that I have done you, would you even consider marrying me? Would you even want to be seen on the arm of a man so stout, so hideous and so awkward as I? Title or no title, I cannot condemn you to a life of awakening to my hideous face or giving life to children as hideous as I. Alas, I am simply prattling on. With you so ill, I feel that my life has no purpose and I am doomed to a life of misery._   
  
_Rest well, my Catherine, so that you may recover quickly. I have faith in your kind heart, and I send you every ounce of my strength and my love. Hold onto it tight and allow it to carry you from this horrendous ailment that haunts you so. Godspeed to it!_   
  
_Yours truly,_   
  
_Colonel R. Fitzwilliam_


	26. 3 January 1814

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madge writes a letter to her husband reflecting her feelings on Catherine's illness and expressing worry about the Colonel.

_Monday, 3 January 1814_   
  
_My dearest Timothy,_   
  
_This winter has been very harsh on all; I am very glad you have missed it because I fear that if that fever had not taken you when it did, you would have been suffering as young Miss Bennet does now. She has hardly woken in the month that she has been ill - when she has, it had been for mere minutes and only long enough for her to take a bit of broth. Our dear brother has worried himself sick over Miss Bennet's state and begs us to allow him into Miss Bennet's bedchamber, but of course, propriety forbids it. A part of me wishes to allow him in knowing that, if she is to recover, he will marry her immediately, but the roof over my head is not mine._   
  
_I am thinking of asking our brother to go and check on the estates and on Mother and Father to see how they are doing since the passing of dear Lucy. Dear Mother was so heartbroken and I am unsure of how Father was upon hearing the news. Both have lost two children within such a short period of time and I do worry that, if Miss Bennet does not recover and Richard does not accept it or distract himself, they will lose three. Richard is the heir to the Matlock title and if he is to go, the title will pass to our cousin and Father's brother's son, Smithson Fitzwilliam. Dear Smithson is a kind young man with a beautiful family, but I fear that he would not do well as a count._   
  
_I check on dear Miss Bennet as often as I can and stay up with her during the night on most nights, as our cousin wishes to keep his wife in her current condition away from Miss Bennet's illness. It is I and Georgiana that tend to her, mostly, while an occasional servant will sit with her through the night. When she is not asleep, she coughs violently, which has led the physician to believe she may be suffering from the consumption. If that be the case, she will never survive. Mrs. Darcy wishes to have her moved to her home in Hertfordshire so that, if she is to die, she may die at home in the place she knows the best. Perhaps Hertfordshire air will be good for her? She is in no condition to be moved now, but perhaps before the month is over, she will go. I have missed her company very much, as we have grown as close as the sisters we are destined to be. I do hope that dear Miss Bennet recovers soon._   
  
_Your loving wife,_   
_  
Madge Fitzwilliam_


	27. 2 March 1814

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last Frost Fair comes and goes. As the months pass, Catherine recovers from her illness.

The winter of 1813 and 1814 was one of the harshest winters recorded in English history. Though not nearly as cold as the Great Frost of 1683-84, in which temperatures had dropped so low that the River Thames was frozen a foot deep, but it was cold and icy enough to support the final River Thames frost fair, of which the Bennet family had the misfortune of missing. In 1795, they had attended the frost fair when Mrs. Bingley had been four years of age, Mrs. Darcy had been two, Mrs. Casey had been a little less than a year and when young Miss Catherine Bennet was still encased in her mother's womb; Mrs. Wickham had yet to be conceived, let alone born.   
  
The River Thames ice fair was one of the beautiful characteristics of what is known as the Little Ice Age, a period between the fourteenth and nineteenth centuries in which temperatures were unusually low, along with the snowy scenery of the English countryside. Shops were set up on the River Thames and activities such as archery, races and ice skating were carried out. Catherine Bennet had always dreamt of attending the River Thames ice fair, but as she was growing up, the winters had never been quite cold enough for the River Thames to freeze. When she had learned, upon properly awakening in her childhood bed in her childhood home, that she had missed the River Thames ice fair, she was quite upset.   
  
But of course, all good things that come must come with something horrible to maintain balance. The conditions that made the River Thames ice fair possible were horribly frigid, well below freezing and difficult to be outside in. Even the temperature inside of the Bennet household had been unbearably cold, so the maid would place a flat pot with hot coal beneath Miss Bennet's mattress in hopes of keeping her ill mistress warm. The temperatures of the days in 1814 were always low, but for a brief time in early March, the temperatures warmed and young Miss Bennet, doing much better and aching to get out of the house, slipped out the kitchen door to breathe in a bit of fresh air.   
  
She had been ill for so long - three months, as her mother had told her - and she was still very weak. She escaped the walls of Longbourn for a swing her father had had the servants put up for her and her sisters when they were young girls, needing to rest after the exhausting effort of escaping. In her nighty and wrapper with her brown hair braided over her shoulder, he sat on the swing and rocked gently back and forth, watching the darkened clouds coming in from over the hills of Hertfordshire. The snow that had haunted England's surface since November of the previous year had all melted away and left the hills wet and muddy; the onslaught of the coming storm would only muck them up further. The thunder rumbled in the distance and Miss Bennet closed her eyes against the cool breeze that smelled of rain. It picked up as the storm clouds wafted in and carried them at a fast pace across the sky. Before she knew it, the white clouds that had covered the sky when she had left the walls of Longbourn had all turned to grey and the rain threatened ominously to pour down in sheets.   
  
"Kitty!" cried Mrs. Bennet, interrupting her peace. "Get inside! The air is too damp for you out here and the rain is coming! You'll get sick again and then what'll I do with my poor nerves?" Miss Bennet let out a sigh and a gentle chuckle.   
  
"All right, Mama," she said, and with one final look towards the darkening sky, she abandoned her swing and returned indoors.


	28. 5 - 17 March 1814

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine writes to Elizabeth asking questions about everyone. Elizabeth responds telling her of Georgiana and Mr. Fairfax's engagement, of the status of her unborn child and about the Colonel's rescue. Catherine ponders her love for the Colonel and questions his for her. Georgiana writes to Catherine about her engagement to Mr. Fairfax and discusses the Colonel more.

_Saturday, 5 March 1814_  
  
_Dear Lizzy,_  
  
_I am well again, or so I feel it. Whatever illness that reigned over me and attempted to prevail appears to have failed in its mission and I am healing well. However, I often still feel weak and I tire quickly, but at least I can now sit at my writing desk and write this letter to you. Mama and Dr. Lewiston believe that I still need more rest, but I am so tired of lying in bed reading books I've read a thousand times over. My mind does not wish to improve itself further at this very time and I've already sat at the window and sketched and painted every possible combination of weather that we could possibly experience. When Mama does allow me to leave my bed, I will sit in the drawing room and sketch Lydia's old cat on top of the pianoforte and I've sketched the poor thing's every move. If you flip the pages in my sketchbook quickly enough, it looks as if the cat in my sketches is moving._  
  
_I must ask how you are faring. I understand that I have missed so much time while being ill and I wonder if the baby has been born yet. Mama has been quiet, so I assume that the answer is no, but a part of me really hopes she is wrong. And what of Jane and her baby? And is there any word from Mary and Mr. Casey yet? How are dear Madge and Lady Matlock? I know it has been months now since Mrs. Finch has passed, but I still worry for their welfare. They must still both be so upset. How does Georgiana fare? And Mr. Fairfax? I understand that before I took ill, Mr. Fairfax seemed as if he had plans to court her. If he admired her as much as I believed him to before, surely, he must have begun to court her by now? Or even possibly asked for her hand? And what of the Colonel? Has any news come of him? I would fear further for Madge and Lady Matlock if he has still given no word of where he has gone. It has been so long since I last heard from him and I worry deeply for his welfare._  
  
_Forgive me if I am boring you with all of my questions, Lizzy. I have missed so much from my illness. Did you go to the frost fair? Maria Lucas came to visit me and told me she had gone to it and told me how incredible of an experience it was. I am so angry to have missed it! Do you think the winter next year will be cold enough for another? As much as I despise the cold, I really hope it will be. I want to attend at least one frost fair in my life. I shall bore you no longer, Lizzy, and shall finish this letter. Do write as soon as you can!_  
  
_Your sister,_  
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

 _Tuesday, 8 March 1814_  
  
_Dear Catherine,_  
  
_So many questions, indeed! But I understand, for you have been ill for so long and so much has happened since you took ill. To answer your first question, I am faring well and no, my child has not been born yet, but he or she is due to arrive in a month's time. I am quite nervous, but with my husband at my side, I do not believe I have anything to fear. He assures me that he will make certain I am in the best care when the time comes. Jane has a few more months to wait before the arrival of her child, and we have heard very little from Mary and her husband. They are back in England, the war on the continent having chased them back, and have settled in London for the meantime. Mrs. Fitzwilliam has left us to be with her mother and sister in Kent and Lady Matlock has gone home to be with Lord Matlock in their time of mourning. Georgiana is well and has been inquiring about your health for quite some time and I have only been able to answer her with the bits and pieces that Mama provided in her letters. Mr. Fairfax had become a guest at Pemberley shortly before Christmastime and had left us for a while in January, but only a fortnight ago, he returned to propose marriage to Georgiana and they are due to marry in the summer._  
  
_I have quite a bit to tell you about the Colonel. When your illness first claimed you, it must have found you when you had fallen into the pond on Pemberley's grounds three months ago. It was the Colonel who pulled you from an icy death and carried you back to safety. He worried himself over you for so long, pacing outside of your bedchamber door for hours a day and hardly slept knowing that you were so ill and suffering so horribly. When you were moved to Longbourn, it was he that accompanied you, making sure that you were warm, dry and safe. When he was assured that you would be well, he returned here and accompanied dear Mrs. Fitzwilliam to her family in Kent and visited with Lady Catherine de Bourgh while there. I believe that he is now at the Matlock estate in Lancashire with Lord and Lady Matlock. I will write to him soon to tell him of your good health, but now is not the time. Recover well, sister, and I shall see you soon. Georgiana will want to write to you about her engagement, I am sure._  
  
_Your sister,_  
  
_Elizabeth Darcy_

* * *

 _Sunday, 13 March 1814_  
  
_The cold has returned and with it, the snow that had claimed most of the winter this year. Lizzy's letter arrived later than it should have because of the delay caused by the weather and it was filled with great news! A month until her child is born, Mary and Mr. Casey back in England, Georgiana and Mr. Fairfax engaged! I have missed so much of their courtship because of my damned illness, but they are engaged and happily! Mr. Fairfax clearly doted on Georgiana and I had been sure he loved her, but of course now, I am convinced! I am so happy for them! I have written a letter to Georgiana expressing my congratulations, but with the weather being what it is, it will not arrive until much later in the week._  
  
_What Lizzy said about the Colonel in her last letter to me made my heart flutter. Can it be that he still loves me as I love him? If he worried over me as Lizzy said and if he pulled me from the pond as he did, then perhaps he does love me. Or he was performing a noble action and saved me not because of his love for me, but because it was the right thing to do. Whatever my Colonel's motivation was, I am glad he had it, for if it were not for him, I might not be alive today to giggle like a fool over the thought of the Colonel rescuing me. Since I do not remember it, I can only assume that I had been unconscious, which means that he must have held me in his arms. I had only been held a few times by the Colonel, and each of those times, I had wanted to embrace him, lose my hands in his hair and bestow on him a kiss more passionate and romantic than any kiss in history. I lost all hope of that dream when he had presented me with his insulting proposal, but I have since forgiven him and knowing what I know now, I dream it again._  
  
_I still love my Colonel dearly and my heart aches for him! If only I had the courage to write to him at his Matlock estate, but I fear that I would pour out all of my heart and soul into far too much paper. I would much rather hold him in my arms while telling him._  
  
_Yours,_  
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

 _Thursday, 17 March 1814_  
  
_Dearest Catherine,_  
  
_Thank you deeply for your congratulations! I must thank you immensely for introducing me to your kind friend, for Mr. Fairfax - John, as he has asked me to call him - is my one true love! I have learned that I have never been in love before. He has taught me that any feelings I had for other men in the past were not love, and that what I have with him is. Oh, Catherine, I am so happy with my dearest and darling John! He wishes to marry me in June, for he has a case working in London and will be quite busy until then. I wish I could be with him now, but his work is important to him and as his soon-to-be wife, I must support him in every way that I can. He proposed to me on the nineteenth of February, when the snow had stopped falling from the sky and the wind had died down enough for us to go for a walk on Pemberley's grounds. He looked so handsome in his coat and he said I looked so beautiful in mine, and he took my hands in his and begged me to marry him. He didn't have to beg, for I would have given him my heart on a silver platter if he had asked me to. I will not go into detail about how wonderful his kiss upon my lips felt. And Will approved of him!_  
  
_I cannot wait until you are as happy as I am, Catherine. Perhaps when you are better again, you can return to Pemberley and my cousin can court you, and perhaps we may marry together! He is away in Lancashire now, but surely, he is to return soon and surely, the weather will warm, too! I am so glad you are feeling better. I will write to my cousin telling him of your condition as soon as I can and perhaps he will run to you. He was so worried for you when you were ill and I hardly believe he slept a moment in the time you were here. When you went back to your home in January, he went away to Lancashire, perhaps to distract himself. He was so pale and looked sickly himself; he needs you, Catherine, as I know you need him. Now that you are well, I do hope that you two may look past your differences and allow yourselves to be together. After all that you both have endured, you deserve each other._  
  
_I must wrap up this letter, but I will write to you soon._  
  
_Your friend,_  
  
_Georgiana Darcy_  
  
**{this letter arrived at Longbourn on Monday, 21 March 1814}**


	29. 24 March 1814

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine finds a surprise visitor while on a walk and they discuss their pasts, their present and their futures. Catherine finally accepts the Colonel's now insult-free proposal.

_Thursday, 24 March 1814_  
  
_I awoke rather early today..._

* * *

I thought it was perhaps because I knew I had been wanting to see the dawn breaking over the hills for quite some time, especially since I had been feeling much better and the weather was so much warmer. Mama had hardly let me out of the house, always fussing over how I would catch ill again and how I ‘might not be as lucky the next time’. Locking myself away in my bedroom was not enough of an escape, so I was glad to be able to slip out unnoticed, my sketchbook in hand.  
  
It was still dark, the grounds of Longbourn illuminated still only by the moon and the stars. With my wrapper pulled tightly about me, I began my early morning walk. I could see the sun starting to peek above the distant hills as I walked, but it was still so dark and still quite so cold. There was hardly a breeze, at least, but it did nothing to assist in fending off the cold. I remember the year 1814 being the coldest year of my memory, even throughout the summer, but being there as Mother Earth awoke from her slumber was enough to warm me that day. I went to the lake where I had painted the Colonel at and sat on the very same boulder. Any sign that he had ever been there had been washed away by rain or snow, but the memory shined brilliantly in my mind.  
  
As the sun rose and lightened the sky, I remembered our conversations from that day. I had spoken Welsh words that Mr. Fairfax had taught me when I was a girl and taught their meaning to the Colonel, who seemed to enjoy the language. I remembered the Colonel nearly falling into the lake, too, and I chuckled lightly as I remembered pulling him back and him toppling over on top of me. I could remember the thoughts I had had when he had fallen on top of me; I had wanted him to kiss me, to hold me and to carry me away forever and take me to all the places in the world that he has seen. Paris, Rome, China, India, the West Indies, America - I wanted to see it all, but I could not see myself visiting those places without the Colonel by my side. I would not even wish to, and if I cannot visit those places without him then I would much rather stay confined to England.  
  
Thinking of the Colonel hurt my heart. I loved him so, but after all we had been through, could it have even been possible for him to love me again? Could it have even been possible for us to be together again? And if marriage were to happen, would he love me forever or would he tire of me? A part of me still feared that he wanted me only for my youth, as he was so much older than I and now in need of a wife to give him an heir since he is to inherit his father's title upon his death. Perhaps I was being silly, but it was very true that he needed a wife to produce an heir for him, or else he will die childless and the title will be passed to another relative. What if I could not produce a male heir for him, or even a child at all? What if marriage to me would doom him to the same fate as dear Madge and her husband, the Colonel's brother?  
  
I was so entranced by my own thoughts that I did not hear the footsteps approaching from behind me, nor did I even notice that morning had broken and the birds had started singing their morning hymns. "M-Miss Bennet?" I startled from my thoughts and as if automatically, I turned to face the man that had interrupted my thoughts; I gasped quietly.  
  
"Colonel," I muttered quietly. He looked exactly as he had at our last meeting, although paler and thinner. He looked as if he had been ill for three months and not I, and his clothes seemed to hang off of him. His hair was still as red as it had ever been and his eyes still a sweet sky blue; his eyes were sunken and his face a bit gaunt, but in my gaze still stood perhaps the handsomest man in all of history. "It's been so long," I finally said after a long silence.  
  
"Too long, perhaps," he replied meekly and quietly, still standing so far from me. "How do you fare?"  
  
"I am well. I have been in good hands here at Longbourn."  
  
"I am glad to hear." He paused for a moment. "You are looking well."  
  
"You are not."  
  
"I... I beg your pardon?" He appeared perplexed, but I persisted.  
  
"The last time I saw you, you were the picture of health. Now, you look as if you are an ill man walking. You look as if it has been you who suffered all these weeks from a terrible illness and not I."  
  
"Perhaps I haven't been well. A lot has happened in the past year that have surely taken their toll on me." I waited a moment before speaking again.  
  
"How has your family been? Since... You know..."  
  
"They are managing, although I did not come here to discuss the current state of my family." I felt sick to my stomach then and I cast my eyes down, not sure of what to possibly say next. "Miss Bennet-"  
  
"Say what is on your mind, Colonel. I beg of you, do not keep me in this state of agony." He seemed slightly taken aback and proceeded with caution.  
  
"Miss Bennet... I feel that... It positively has... It has come..." He let out a sigh. "I was terribly worried for you during your illness. When I saw you lying lifeless on the bank of the pond, I feared that I had been too late, and even as soon as I was assured you were safe and would be taken care of, I still feared that I had been too late. I hadn't the slightest idea of what I would do with myself if you did not survive and I blamed myself for not getting to you sooner." He paused, gripping a pair of riding gloves in his hands and wringing them as if they were soaked and he wanted them dry. "Miss Bennet..."  
  
"Colonel, if it pains you to press on, then do so no longer." He glanced up at me.  
  
"I fear that I have an awful lot of explaining to do, Miss Bennet. These past few months, I do not believe that I have treated you fairly-"  
  
"We both have an awful lot of explaining to do, Colonel, and you are not going to brush off the unfair way that I have treated you and your family." He nodded, glancing towards the ground again.  
  
"Do sit, Miss Bennet. Did you bring your sketchbook?"  
  
"Of course I did." I sat down on the boulder facing the lake, the Colonel seating himself beside me facing the opposite direction. He was silent for several moments and I began to sketch the lake in the dawning light. He remained silent, and I almost had the entirety of the lake and the trees outlined when he spoke next.  
  
"You are still a very grand artist, Miss Bennet. I dare say, your skills have improved immensely since we last met."  
  
"I've had an awful lot of time to practice, Colonel. When I was finally well enough to leave my bed, Mama hardly allowed me to leave my bedroom, let alone the house. I've sketched perhaps every room in Longbourn and every corner of it, too."  
  
"With your hand, even the cobwebs could look beautiful." I paused for a moment, feeling his presence very close over my left shoulder.  
  
"I am running out of paper in this sketchbook. I have perhaps three pages left, not including this one."  
  
"I have no problem buying you a new one, Miss Bennet."  
  
"But I do," I said sharply and quickly, picking up my head and meeting his eyes.  "I am in no need of a new sketchbook and besides, this is a hobby, not a necessity-"  
  
"Catherine." I paused, the anger in my face passing and fading to a neutral expression. "You are not alone anymore. You do not have to do things all by yourself any longer. You do not have to save up money for the things you want and you do not have to expect only yourself to make you happy. That is one of many reasons why I am here. You have me here to spoil you now." I paused as he raised a hand to my face and I glanced down, closing my eyes and resting my cheek against his palm.  
  
"Colonel... I don't believe all this is right." I pulled away from him and stood, taking a few steps away.  
  
"Catherine, after all we have been through-"  
  
"I have treated you in no proper way to deserve your affection, Colonel. How can you not find another woman better than me? Someone who is poised and elegant and a proper lady with money?"  
  
"Because I don't seek a woman who is poised and elegant and a proper lady with money." He stood from the boulder. "There are plenty of women like that in English society, yes, but not one of them loves me as you do."  
  
"You believe I still love you?"  
  
"Do you not?" A long pause of silence fell between us, then I turned to face him with my arms crossed against my chest.  
  
"You insulted me, but it was I who was immature about it. You did not press on about it, but I did and I snubbed your family for it as if I blamed them for your actions. Why would you tie yourself to someone as immature and childish as me? And besides, I am not fit to be a countess. Upon your father's passing, you are to inherit a title that you were born for and raised for, but I cannot stand by your side without making the Matlock title look foolish."  
  
"Are you worried of what the ton may think of you if we are wed and I inherit my father's title? Catherine, my dear, I have never been one for the ton and I have no care what they think of the Matlock title. I don't want them to look at us as yet another boring Lord and Lady, I want us to be memorable and a couple that everyone envies. I want the ton to see a happy couple that is very much in love with each other. Have no worry of what the ton thinks of you, Catherine. Worry only what those who care for you and love you think of you."  
  
"They all think me a silly fool with my head in the clouds."  
  
"That is not true at all, Catherine. They think you a noble young woman who is discovering the grand person inside of her."  
  
"And what do you think of me? After all I've done and how I've treated you, what do you think of me?"  
  
"I think you are a beautiful, brilliant woman. Perhaps a bit naive, but you are young; you have had no opportunity to experience the world, but I can see that you have a passion for it and a desire to learn what it's like. We all act like children sometimes; look at the world, everyone is always fighting with someone over something that, in the end, is not worth the hundreds or even thousands of lives lost. Have no fear of me thinking poorly of you, Catherine, for I do not. I cannot."  
  
"Perhaps, then, you are a fool for not."  
  
"Love makes a fool out of us all, Catherine. I forgive you for your harshness towards me, if you will forgive me for mine towards you. Perhaps when we are wed-"  
  
"Are you assuming now that I will marry you?" His expression fell and he looked at me with wounded pride swimming in his eyes. "Forgive me, Colonel; I am a bit old-fashioned and like to do things the traditional way." I gave him a gentle smile, which he returned as he approached me and carefully dropped down onto one knee.  
  
"Catherine Bennet, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"  
  
"Of course I will, Colonel. You didn't even have to ask."  
  
"But you just said-" I chuckled at the confusion in his face.  
  
"I am only teasing, Colonel." He smiled then and stood erect in front of me.  
  
"I believe we are well past formalities, Catherine. You may call me Richard, if you will."  
  
"I like the name 'Richard'. It's very suitable for a man as handsome as yourself." He chuckled lightly as he took me in his arms and I wrapped my arms around his neck.  
  
"You may say it as much as you like, but only if I may kiss you."  
  
"As I said before, my Richard, you do not have to ask."

* * *

 _The kiss I shared with Richard was much better than the one Mr. Fairfax bestowed upon me. It was passionately warm, invigoratingly welcoming, romantically sweet and all the feelings that a true love's kiss should have. Upon the breaking of our kiss, Richard's first move was to rush to my father and ask him for my hand, of which my father was only too happy to give to my Richard. He stayed for supper, then rode away to London to work on settling his affairs. He promised me he would write every day and return to me soon, and within weeks, he promises marriage. It is terrible, truly, how loving Richard had to be so hard; I certainly was a fool to push him away. I vow to never treat him again as I had these last few months and I will be the best wife that I can be to him. I am still sorry that he will not have a better countess, but perhaps I will grow into the title._  
  
_For now, I must turn in and dream of being in my Richard's arms again._  
  
_Yours,_  
_  
Catherine Bennet, soon to be Fitzwilliam_


	30. 30 March - 11 April 1814

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine goes shopping for a new dress with Mrs. Bennet and Mary and is stressed out by their hounding, so she leaves. Tiring on the path, she meets the Colonel, who has returned to bring news of the birth Elizabeth's daughter, Rosalind. They discuss their families and the Colonel brings her home. The Colonel explains why he stopped calling her 'Caty'. A day is set for the wedding. Georgiana comes to stay and meets Mr. Fairfax's mother. The Colonel notices a rough cough in Catherine and calls for a physician and Catherine is diagnosed with a dangerous illness that had been developing for a long time, but the Colonel is nowhere near ready to give up on his bride-to-be.

_Wednesday, 30 March, 1814_  
  
_It has been nearly a week since my Richard has left me and though I miss him terribly, I am comforted by the thought that he loves me as I love him and that we will be married at the end of April. Richard's reasoning, in his last letter, was his desire for me to recover fully so that I may be prepared for married life both physically and mentally. I could not argue, for I still tire quickly and the thought of the wedding night frightens me quite a bit, although I know my Richard will not hurt me._  
  
_Today, Mama took me to Meryton to search for a pattern for a wedding dress and Mary joined us from London two days prior, having heard of my engagement and wanting to be there for support as Mama searched through patterns..._

* * *

I was dressed in a yellow dress with vertical darker stripes of yellow and white extending the length of the dress. The sleeves were long and I had with me a brown shawl to protect me from the biting chill that the air still possessed. Mary was dressed in a dark green dress and Mama in her usual and we stood in the local dress shop looking through a book of patterns. Mama had found one with a not-quite-so modest cut and showed it to me, saying, "The Colonel will think you absolutely divine in this dress and the ton, once they've had a look at you in this, will remember you and your wedding forever!"  
  
"Mama!" I cried, embarrassed at the thought. "The Colonel wants a small ceremony with just our immediate families and I would very much like the same. Simply because he is now the viscount does not mean the ton will be in attendance at our wedding and besides, I would never wear something like this even to a ball!"  
  
"Save that pattern for a nightgown, then," said Mary.  
  
"Mary!" cried Mama in shock, and Mary blushed and turned her attention downward.  
  
"I do not even wish to look at patterns, Mama. I already own the dress that I would like to wear as I marry my beloved!" I replied.  
  
"But you must have a new dress for your wedding! It is traditional and only right!" said Mama.  
  
"The wedding is for none but the Colonel and I and our guests are simply spectators. I will wear that dark blue dress I have with the white ribbon and collar. The Colonel has told me on numerous occasions that he adores that dress and I will please him further by wearing it," I continued.  
  
"Colour dresses are simply falling out of style, Kitty! Nobody wears colour anymore, not even Charlotte Lucas when she married Mr. Collins! Everyone wears white! It is the colour of choice at weddings now for the bride and if I have my way, you will be wearing a white dress at yours-"  
  
"Mama, please!" I cried, interrupting her. "I understand that the styles and fashions have changed, but I am not marrying the Colonel to please you or Papa or my sisters or his family, I am marrying him because I love him and that is that. I will be wearing my blue dress and the Colonel will be just as pleased to see me in that because he is also not marrying my dress, he is marrying _me_ . Please, I beg of you to stop this nonsense!" At that, I got up and walked out of the dress shop, tired of being bossed around and began walking back towards home and Longbourn.  
  
I loved Mama, but she was often a handful. I did not want to marry the Colonel in a dress I would put aside and never look at again, I wanted to marry him in a dress that he would see me in from time to time and feel tears threatening his eyes from the loving memory of our wedding. I do not even believe that the Colonel would put much thought into my dress anyhow. I certainly had no care what he would choose to wear when we were married, so why should he for me? I wanted this wedding to come quickly so I could be thrust into life as the wife of a viscount, but halfway up the road to Longbourn, I began to tire, and I leaned against a wooden fence to catch my breath. Perhaps a quick wedding wouldn't be such a grand idea after all and perhaps I should heed my Richard's advice and wait until the end of April. I closed my eyes and began to slide down the fence and towards the ground, heaving with exhaustion, when I heard the sound of a horse's hooves pounding against the ground nearing me and coming to a stop, then the sound of the rider dismounting followed.  
  
"Catherine!" came the rider's voice, and I opened my eyes to see the Colonel rushing to my side and kneeling beside me, a hand moving to my back. "What on earth are you doing so far from home on your own?"  
  
"Richard!" I cried, allowing him to help me stand and collapsing into his arms. "Richard, I've missed you so! I thought you weren't due to return for another week?"  
  
"I come bearing news of your sister in Pemberley, Catherine, now what on earth are you doing here alone?"  
  
"I had gone into town looking at dress patterns with Mama and Mary and Mama was arguing with me over my choice and I left early, now what of Lizzy? Do tell me, Richard, for I am dying in agony with curiosity!"  
  
"Your sister has bore my cousin a daughter this very morning and she has been christened Rosalind Anne Darcy."  
  
"She's had a girl? Oh, how wonderful! Mama and Papa will be so pleased!"  
  
"That they shall, but they will not be pleased with me if I do not return you home while you are in this condition. Come, now, on the horse!" He assisted me in climbing onto his horse and he climbed on behind me, his arms on either side of me holding onto the reins and I sitting comfortably and safely between them. He led the horse at a gentle trot and we discussed the new addition to both of our families, Richard telling me he had received an express letter in London an hour before and as soon as he had received it, he jumped on his horse and rode here to pass on the news.  
  
"That poor horseman and his horse must have been riding at such high speeds for hours to deliver that letter to you! At what time did Mr. Darcy declare the birth of his child?" I had asked.  
  
"No specific time was given, although he did say that Mrs. Darcy had gone into labour around nine o'clock. He gave the date of his daughter's birth as the thirtieth of March so I can only assume that she was born in the early hours of the night," Richard replied.  
  
"You're very clever at figuring such things out, my Richard. I have very much missed your intelligent tongue, for Papa hardly speaks with me except at meals and Mary has been fussing over her Mr. Casey and his developing career in music."  
  
"How has your family been? Your mother, your father, Mrs. Casey, Mrs. Bingley and even Mrs. Wickham?"  
  
"Mama has been well, as has Papa. Mary, too, and Jane is still expecting her child, but that child is not due for another few months still. How is your mother faring? And your father and Madge?"  
  
"Madge is still with her family in Kent, but she is faring well. She is visiting her sister and her nieces, but she will be at our wedding. Mother is doing will since Lucy's passing and Father, too, although both are still devastated over the loss. Father is very eager to meet you, he has stated. He has heard me talk senseless nonsense of you for days upon end and wants to receive his own glimpse and impression of you. Already, he is very fond of you."  
  
"Is he? Even though he has never met me?" The idea of meeting Lord Matlock never crossed my mind until then, and I became very nervous. Lady Matlock I had no trouble pleasing considering I had not known who she was upon meeting her, but I will meet Lord Matlock at the wedding for the first time. I am certain he has heard all kinds of word of me from both his son and his wife and a part of me wondered how he had not tired of hearing my name.  
  
"Mother, Madge and I have all spoken very highly of you to him and he wants to see how true our statements truly are."  
  
"Even after all of the harm we've done to each other?"  
  
"Catherine, my love, forget about those times. They are meaningless now. We are now engaged to be married and any harm done in our pasts are behind us. They will not reflect our futures together in any way."  
  
"Oh, but I believe they already have." He looked at me with a very perplexed expression. "They have drawn us closer together and have forced us to learn each other's characters much better than if we had been engaged nearly a year ago."  
  
"I cannot argue with your logic, my Catherine, for your logic is much greater than mine and I must agree." He gave me a gentle smile as he turned the horse onto the Longbourn estate and dismounted, assisting me in my dismount.  
  
"I thank you for the ride, Richard, for I was much too tired to complete the walk back from town on my own," I said to him.  
  
"That I could see from your expression, my love. Come, now, and let us express the good news to your family!"  
  
"I am certain that Papa will be the sole occupant of this house, but I am also certain that he will be pleased to hear of the news before Mama!" Richard and I were very pleased to see the smile form on Papa's face when he learned that he had become a grandfather, as he had begun to worry in recent years that he would die before any of his grandchildren were born. When Mama and Mary arrived back at home, they were pleased to find that Richard had gotten me home safely and thrilled to hear of the birth of Lizzy's baby.

* * *

 _I will write to Lizzy extending my congratulations on my new niece, young Rosalind. I am very thrilled to finally be an aunt! I am certain that, once Lizzy is well again, she will write detailed letters to Mary, Mama and Papa, Jane, Lydia and myself but for now, I am pleased to have passed on the news._  
  
_I am thrilled to have my Richard back in my presence, although with him here, the time until we are wed will only pass more slowly. I have not informed him of my decision to wear my blue dress to our wedding because I want him to be surprised, but I want to wear it sometime in the near future to determine if I am making the correct decision._  
  
_Yours,_  
  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

 _Sunday, 3 April 1813_  
  
_I don't know why I am bothering to write about this, but I really enjoyed the conversation I shared with Richard very early this morning as he happened upon me outside..._

* * *

I had been sitting on the swing watching the morning break, my breathing slightly laboured from a bit of phlegm in my throat, when Richard joined me, I still dressed in my nightgown and he in his nightshirt and overcoat. "I woke up early this morning and could not will myself to sleep any longer. After an hour or so of tossing and turning, I felt myself drawn to this very location and I am very pleased to find you here, Catherine," he'd said. I smiled warmly as he addressed me by my Christian name, a name he wouldn't dare call me in the presence of Mama or Papa or anyone else. "What has you so gay, my love?"  
  
"Upon our first meeting, you insisted on calling me Caty, I recall. And I also recall you telling Lydia to call me so and not allowing her to address me as 'Kitty'," I replied, turning my attention to the rising sun.  
  
"What is so pleasing about that?" he asked, perplexed that I would recall such a thing. I waited a moment as I gathered my thoughts before speaking.  
  
"You haven't once referred to me as Caty since May last. You have always referred to me either as Miss Bennet or Catherine. May I ask why?"  
  
"Though I have said it is best to forget about that dreadful day, you asked me not to ever refer to you as 'Caty' ever again. Looking at you now beside yourself last year, you have outgrown the name 'Caty'. 'Caty' seems far too childish for you, as the name 'Kitty' once did. Your family calls you a mix of Catherine, Cathy and Caty and upon our marriage and the death of my father, you will forever be Lady Matlock or Lady Catherine of Meryton, if you want to talk in regal terms. But no one but me shall ever refer to you as 'my Catherine'."  
  
"Dear Richard, you sound as if you are prattling!"  
  
"Perhaps I am. I am quite exhausted." He chuckled lightly and so did I, and then I stood to take him into my arms.  
  
"And by that logic, you shall be 'Richard' to your family and someday soon, Lord Matlock or Lord Richard of Clitheroe, but you will never be 'my Richard' to anyone but me."  
  
"I wouldn't want anyone else to refer to me as their Richard, save for Mother. I want to be no one's but yours."  
  
"I have no intention of sharing you anyhow," I replied with a smile, and I closed my eyes to accept a kiss from him. As it was early in the morning and the rest of Longbourn was still asleep, we allowed ourselves the privilege of sharing an extended passionate kiss. After a moment, I began to question why we should even care, considering Richard and I would be marrying. Perhaps, if we were caught, our engagement period would be hastened and I would be Mrs. Catherine Fitzwilliam much sooner. But remembering the holy day, we broke our kiss and prepared for church, knowing that we ought to worship the Lord for the good fortune He has granted us in this past year.

* * *

 _In other news, Lizzy and my new niece, Rosalind, have been doing very well. Little Rosalind is a very healthy infant and I shall be meeting her a month after Richard and I are wed. Societal obligations as a new mother prevent Lizzy from leaving her bedchamber for a month at least, enabling her to both recover and bond with her new child. Mr. Darcy has promised to be in attendance, although Richard has insisted that he would much rather Mr. Darcy stay at Pemberley with his wife and new daughter. Richard understands as much as I that this wedding is for us, not for our parents or siblings or any other relatives. Jane may or may not miss our wedding as well, considering her condition._  
  
_Lydia has written and has declared that she wishes to be present at my wedding. I am unsure if I even want to see her again, considering all she had done to me in the past. I'd like to blame her for me being as I have been all my life, although perhaps it was I who was so feeble-minded and malleable. I knew not any other way to be. I am certain that Richard will tell me that she ought to come because she is my sister, but relationships held together by a blood bond are not always strong or even worth maintaining._  
  
_In less than a month, I shall be Mrs. Catherine Fitzwilliam, and time cannot pass any slower, can it?_  
  
_Yours,_  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

 _Thursday, 7 April, 1814_  
  
_Peace has been broken in this house with the reappearance of Lydia and her 'dear Mr. Wickham' today. Mama was the only one pleased to see her and Mr. Wickham while Mary, Papa, Richard and I were none too pleased by their presence. Out of curtesy, of course we were kind to them, but Richard and I took frequent walks today with Mary and my brother, her Mr. Casey, while Papa locked himself away in his library so we could escape Lydia's shrill voice and Mr. Wickham's deceitfully charming personality. They will be here until a week after Richard and I's wedding date, which has been set for Thursday, the twenty-eighth of day April. I have terrible memories of Mr. Wickham and I do not wish to be reminded of them. When he arrived this morning, he said to me, ‘Good to see you again, Miss Bennet. Soon to be Mrs. Fitzwilliam, are we?’ in that snide tone he’s always used. I gave him no answer, for the memory of a time long ago still pains me._  
  
_I should end this entry, for Lydia is begging me to come downstairs and sit with her and her 'dear Mr. Wickham' with my Richard. Perhaps I shall use this cough I have developed as an excuse to stay away from them._  
  
_Yours,_  
_Catherine Bennet_

* * *

 _Monday, 11 April 1814_  
  
_The days go by ever so slowly, especially now with Lydia and Mr. Wickham present, but yesterday, they removed themselves to London to visit the city until the twenty-fifth day of April and today, Georgiana has come. With Georgiana here at Longbourn, Mr. Fairfax has been a frequent guest here as well, with him having returned to Meryton. Mr. Fairfax's parents, Old Mr. Fairfax and Mrs. Fairfax, who has insisted I call her Mairwen, her Christian Welsh-given name - Mrs. Mairwen Fairfax is, after all, a native to the country of Wales. Long ago, I had formed a friendship with Mairwen when her son and myself would spend long hours looking over atlases and Shakespeare together. We began speaking while we all sat in the parlour, Mary and Mr. Casey duetting at the pianoforte, Richard deep in conversation with John Fairfax and Old Mr. Fairfax and Mairwen conversing with myself and Georgiana..._

* * *

"I've only heard of Wales in stories," Georgiana had said. "Is it beautiful?"  
  
"Very beautiful indeed," said Mairwen with pride. "Wales is where my John wishes to take you for your honeymoon, dear!"  
  
"Truly? I cannot wait!" cried Georgiana with joy.  
  
"You must tell me all about Wales when you've returned," I said to Georgiana.  
  
"Where will my cousin be taking you, Catherine?" Georgiana had asked me.  
  
"To Scotland. He says the journey is long, but it will be well worth it. His reason was to 'feed my hunger for far away adventures as early into our marriage as possible'."  
  
"Scotland is so far, but I am certain it will be an incredible experience! Are you prepared to be wed to my cousin?"  
  
"Of course I am. I love and adore my Richard very much and I anticipate our union with agonising impatience."  
  
"Excuse me a moment, _menywod annwyl_ . I would very much like to converse with Mr. Bennet on a topic that has been on my mind for quite some time," said Mairwen, excusing herself from the conversation and taking her leave, leaving Georgiana and I alone. Georgiana waited a moment, then leaned into me and spoke to me in a hushed whisper.  
  
"Are you prepared for your... Your wedding night?"  
  
"Goodness, I have not given it much thought," I whispered back. "I suppose I am, for I know that my Richard will do all he can to ensure that I am not hurt or uncomfortable." I felt a tickle in my throat and raised my cream-coloured handkerchief to my lips, stifling the cough.  
  
"You've also four sisters and a mother whom have all endured their wedding nights already. Have they prepared you for it?" I shook my head.  
  
"Mama tells me nothing unless it is to scold me for not being the way she wanted me to be and my sisters do not advise me on anything. Though much time has passed, I fear they still believe me to be some silly foolish thing."  
  
"I doubt that is true! Lizzy would be more than happy to talk to you, if she were not confined to her bedchamber. I cannot speak for the rest of your family."

“I am not even sure I wish to spoken to on the subject. Our wedding night is between my Richard and myself and our experience will be different than theirs. Perhaps I ought to leave it to us to... to... Excuse me,” I said, unable to control the tickle in my throat. I stood and departed the room rather quickly stifling a cough and hiding myself in the drawing room across the hall, trying my hardest to stifle that cough so that no one would hear. Tears came to my eyes as I erupted into an uncontrollable and suffocating cough that was so loud and distracting to me that I did not hear the drawing room doors sliding open nor did I hear my Richard’s footsteps behind me; I jumped slightly when I felt his hands on my shoulders.

“Catherine! Are you well?” he asked me as I regained control of my cough. He handed me a handkerchief and I wiped the tears from my eyes with it.

“Perhaps it is the pollen from the trees. It is spring, after all,” I said, stifling another cough.

“I don’t at all like the sound of that cough, Catherine. I think it best if you see a physician,” Richard replied, rubbing my upper back as I struggled for breath.

“I insist that I am fine, Richard! I don’t wish to be ill again! I have been ill for three months already and all I want is a peaceful and happy marriage with you. I don’t want to be ill all of the time.” 

“My love, we might not have the chance of a happy marriage if you do not see a physician. That cough sounds dangerous.”

“Richard, your concern is heartwarming, but I do not need a physician! Perhaps I will see one after we are married-”

“No, you will not because I will refuse to marry you until you’ve seen one.”

“Richard!”

“My decision is final, Catherine. Even if it is nothing, I would much rather know that you are well than become a widower so soon into our marriage.”

“As stated, your concern is appreciated but if that is your final decision, then I guess we shall never be married.” With that said, I stormed out of the room and slammed my bedroom door shut. I wanted to be in perfect shape for our wedding and yet he absolutely insisted that something was still wrong with me. I didn’t want to think that I was still ill because I was so tired of being ill. I no longer wanted to lie in my bed waiting for clearance to leave it. I sat in my room for two hours more when I heard a knock at my door - it was Mary.

“Cathy, please come out. There’s someone here to see you,” she said.

“I don’t wish to see anyone,” I said, stuffing my crimson handkerchief into a jewelry box on my dresser.

“Cathy, you must see him. It’s very important,” Mary said from the other side, and I gave no answer. A couple of minutes later, the door opened and in walked Papa, followed by Mr. Phylis, our local physician in Meryton - he was the man who, along with Mairwen and a few other middle-aged women, attended every childbirth in the area as well as functioned as the local physician.

“Catherine Bennet, you have no choice in this matter. You must allow Mr. Phylis to examine you. Colonel Fitzwilliam told us of your coughing fits and we all agreed that you must submit to an examination or your marriage will be put off,” Papa said to me.

“Papa, please-”

“I won’t hear of it, Catherine. You are too loved by this family to allow this cough to continue. Mr. Phylis, I leave her in your capable hands,” said Papa, and he left, closing the door behind him.

“Good afternoon, Miss Bennet. Your betrothed tells me of a nasty wet cough you’ve developed. Was it overnight or has it been coming?” Mr. Phylis began as he set his bag down and began to unpack it; I gave him no answer. “Miss Bennet, you may stay silent all you like but I will not leave until I have successfully diagnosed you. You might not want treatment but if you continue going about town and spreading whatever it is you have, then the issue falls into my hand. As a physician, it is my duty to stop an epidemic at the root.” I let out a sigh; he was right, and so was my Richard. I did not wish to be ill during out marriage or even possibly cut it short.

“I’ve felt a tickle in my throat since early April,” I replied, defeated.

“And any phlegm?”

“Enough to labour my breathing a bit.”

“I see... You are certain this is not a continuation of the illness you had in the winter?”

“Is that not your job to figure out?” He glanced at me.

“You are not the first patient I’ve seen that has no desire to be seen as ill, Miss Bennet. I know how to handle a stubborn patient.” I didn’t reply. He pulled out his stethoscope. “Miss Bennet, I shall need you to loosen your dress so that I may listen to your lungs.” My eyes widened. “Miss Bennet, I am a physician. There is nothing I have not seen.” I paused a moment, then undid the back of my dress and loosened the stays; Mr. Phylis pressed the cold flat part of the stethescope to my chest.

“It is frigid!” I cried.

“Miss Bennet, please do not speak while I am listening to your breathing. Your voice is very much amplified. Just breathe for me, please. Breathe in and out real heavy.” I did; he moved the stethoscope to the other side of my chest. “Repeat.” I did. He then moved the stethoscope to my back. “And again, for me.” I breathed in and out heavily for him. “And again.” I repeated the cycle; he removed the stethoscope from my back and removed them from his ears, then picked up a book and scribbled something in it.

“What are you writing?”

“Crackles, Miss Bennet. Never a good thing.”

“Crackles?” He nodded. “Have you coughed up any blood?” I shifted uncomfortably, hiding the cuff of my sleeve from view, where a small red spot was visible. “Miss Bennet?”

“Just a little,” I replied.

“Only a little? Have you a stained handkerchief that I may see?” I thought of my Richard, probably standing outside of the door worried sick and I did not want to worry him any further. The worse my cough got, the more I feared of a killer illness that I knew would take its toll on my Richard. I stood and went to the jewelry box, pulling out the now crimson handkerchief and showing it to Mr. Phylis unfolded. It had once been a cream-colour, but now was only cream on its edges. In the centre was a rather large and still damp crimson red stain; he took it and examined it, then scribbled more in his notebook.

He examined me for twenty more minutes before taking leave of my bedroom, and I followed him out onto the landing listening to him speaking to my father and Richard below. “I heard crackles in her breathing, and she has been coughing up significant amounts of blood,” he said.

“Good Lord,” said my Richard, dismayed; Mr. Phylis must have shown them the handkerchief. “My poor beloved... What do you think it is? Pneumonia?”

“Colonel Fitzwilliam, you know as well as I do that pneumonia looks far different than this,” Mr. Phylis said.

“What do you suspect then?” asked Papa.

“I suspect the worst. The White Plague, they called it in my day, although Miss Bennet is lucky to still have her colour. I am certain it won’t stay much longer. They’ve developed a scientific name for it, _phthisis pulmonalis_ , although most call it the consumption,” said Mr. Phylis, gravely. “I am sorry, but it is so advanced that there is not much I can do for her.”

“There has to be something! She is so young and so full of life!” Richard cried.

“Yes, as were many of the other sufferers of the illness I treated, but they succumbed to the disease,” said Mr. Phylis.

“Have some faith in my betrothed!” Richard shouted. “Forgive me for being so brash, but I know that young woman and she is strong and she has a strong will to live. There must be something - another physician somewhere who, pardon my statement, is more experienced in treating the consumption than you. A home, maybe, where sufferers are treated! A location with better survival rates!”

“There is, perhaps, one place that I know of. A sanitorium in Scotland - in the Scottish Highlands, it is, in Dornoch. That’s on the coast, inside one of the firths. I believe it is called Saint Andrew’s Sanitorium for the Ill. I have heard good things of it, but I have never sent a patient there. You may try that, but I worry the journey will agitate her illness even farther,” said Mr. Phylis.

“If it will save my daughter, then we will do whatever we can,” said Papa.

“What do I have to do?” asked Richard.

“Write to them and request a bed, then if they accept and have room for her, they will take her. It is a grand sanitorium, not at all like an asylum. Each patient receives their own suit complete with living quarters, two bedrooms - one for the ill and another for the escort or consort, a bathroom and a balcony. My cousin from Essex sent a patient there and visited with him, telling me all about it. That patient survived, he did. One escort is permitted to stay with the patient, but it must be a parent, the next closest relative, or the spouse,” said Mr. Phylis. “Now, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have other patients to attend to. Good day to you both, and my best wishes to Miss Bennet.” With that said, he departed, and the entrance hall silenced.

After several moments of silence, my Richard said, “I will marry her. I will marry her today, tomorrow, as soon as I possibly can and I will accompany her to that sanitorium and she will get better. We can save the celebrations for when she is well.”

“And what if this is all in vain? What if she does not respond well to their treatments?” asked Papa.

“I love your daughter, sir, and I will do all I can to help her. Whether she succumbs to the illness or not, I will not allow her to go through this alone. I will be by her side, always, to give her strength and I will not allow her to give up. If it makes me a widower, than so be it. At least I will have tried,” Richard replied.

“You are an honourable man, Colonel, and one that I will be proud to call my son. I will ride into Meryton now to make arrangements,” said Papa.

“And I will write to the sanitorium,” said Richard, starting up the stairs.

“May God bless you with luck, my boy,” said Papa, and he, too, left; Richard continued up the stairs and was startled by my dishevelled appearance standing outside of my bedroom door on the landing.

“Catherine... How much of that conversation did you hear?” he asked me.

“Only all of it,” I replied solemnly. “I followed Mr. Phylis onto the landing. I wanted to hear it for myself, not be told.”

“Catherine-”

“You’re not hiding anything from me, Richard. I can bear it.” I paused a moment. “We are to be married soon, then?”

“Yes. I will marry you and we will set off for my childhood home in Lancashire so that, if the sanitorium does have a room for you, the journey will not be as far as it would be from here.” I nodded gently.

“Have I a say in my fate?”

“No.” His voice, and his expression, were stern. “I lost you once, and then I almost lost you again. I am not losing you permanently.” I stayed silent for a moment, leaning against the wall for support; he took me into his arms and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Please don’t think of me as being harsh, my Catherine-”

“Does Mama know? And Mary and Lydia and everyone else?”

“Not yet, but they will be told in due time. The rest of the household, save for Mr. Bennet and I, went for a walk to town while you were being examined. I shall write to Darcy but ask him to refrain from telling Mrs. Darcy, considering her frail state-”

“She wouldn’t like that, being kept in the dark-”

“-and I will also refrain from telling Mrs. Bingley, as the worry may cause her an early labour or even a miscarriage. But your family will know.”

“What if I don’t get better?”

“You will, Catherine. I have faith in you. You have a strong will to live and can survive anything-”

“But did your sister, then, not have a strong will to live? She, a new mother and dying from the consumption, succumbed to the disease less than a year ago, if you recall!”

“How could I forget? Lucy had a strong will, yes, to survive for her son, but in her state, having so recently given birth, her body was not strong enough. Yours is.”

“But I was recently so ill-”

“And recovered. Catherine, have faith in yourself, or you won’t survive it.” I stayed silent for a moment, straying from my Richard’s arms and sitting on the staircase leading to the second floor landing.

“I am frightened.”

“You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t, Catherine. But at the same time, have no fear, for you are in my hands and I will guarantee your safety.” He knelt down in front of me, his hands taking mine and resting in my lap.

“Promise me you won’t ever give up.”

“You have my word.”

“And promise me that if I do not respond to treatment, that you will let me die in peace.”

“Catherine-”

“Promise me, Richard!” He sighed, defeated.

“I promise you. Now please, lie down in bed and allow me to write to the sanitorium. I love you, my Catherine, and I must work quickly, or you will be living on borrowed time.” He bestowed upon my forehead a gentle kiss, then helped me to stand. I did what I was told and lay down in my bed, where I picked up my half-full journal.

* * *

_I lie in bed now fearful of my future, but hopeful as well. Papa arranged for Richard and I to be married tomorrow and the following day, he will take me to his estate in Clitheroe, in Lancashire. I am unsure if Lord and Lady Matlock will be there or if they will be at their Matlock estate in Derbyshire - Lady Matlock’s family came from Lancashire and was the only living descendant and relative of Lord and Lady Clitheroe, so the estate went to her. And seeing as Richard is now her closest living relative and descendant, the estate will go to him. But nevermind that._

_I trust that my Richard will have me safe and will give me much needed strength that I shall need to survive the consumption. Perhaps one day, I will have children that I can tell the story of how their strong mother defeated the illness, but one can only be so hopeful. For now, I must rest, and until tomorrow, I shall enjoy what little time I have left as Miss Catherine Bennet; in fact, this is my last entry as Catherine Bennet. Goodnight to you, and best of luck to my future._

_Yours,_

_Catherine Bennet_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this! All comments are appreciated, good and bad, and don't forget to continue onto Part Two! I should post it on or no later than the 7th of July, 2017.


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